


Two Hollows Meet in the Woods, What's the Worst That Can Happen?

by Starkken



Category: Bleach
Genre: Dissociative Identity Disorder, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual GrimmIchi, Friends to Lovers, Hollows being hollows, I chose what to keep and ret-conned the rest, M/M, Might change rating later on, Post-TYBW, The Author Regrets Nothing, Touch Starved Ichigo, bros being bros, mentions of sleep, or an example, past bad dad Isshin, probably going to be slow burn for grimmichi but grimmshiro will be fast burn, somewhat canon compliant, soul society finally gets the changes it needs, visored are metaphor for DID
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:06:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 30,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24121054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starkken/pseuds/Starkken
Summary: Ichigo is living his post-war peaceful life. Except it's not as peaceful or perfect as he wants. There's something missing from his life and things outside of his control are changing. When the Visord all develope problems controlling their hollows, Ichigo must once again confront his demons.Zangetsu is restless in a life without war. Everything changes for him after a chance encounter with a certain espada in the woods outside of Karakura. He is not the only hollow wanting to sate their hunger for life and love, though.How will Ichigo and Zangetsu adapt to their new life? Can they both be happy, or will one have to sacrifice their new found peace for the sake of the other?
Relationships: Grimmjow Jaegerjaques & Kurosaki Ichigo, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques/Kurosaki Ichigo, Hollow Ichigo | Zangetsu/Grimmjow Jaegerjaques
Comments: 92
Kudos: 218





	1. The Meeting

He can not say when they started doing this. Maybe it was after he graduated, when the summer was hot and dry and friends were busy with moving away. Maybe it was in the chilled autumn, when everything was winding down and settling into patterns different from the last.

Why was easier to say. Substitute soul reaper Ichigo snuck out of town and into the woods to meet up with his rival and friend Grimmjow because he wanted to.

Karakura town was slow and boring when there were no spiritual crises to survive. And it might be selfish but Ichigo preferred to do something rather than do nothing. Coming across the blue haired man during a midnight hike was the perfect catalyst for action. 

While the rest of the town was quiet and content, Grimmjow was a firecracker demanding action and attention. He was loud and brash, his sword sharp and ready to cut into anything at a moment’s notice. Lurking the streets during the day and prowling the woods at night, he was restless and energetic. So, Ichigo did not cut down the rogue hollow near a population of humans, he laughed and shouted and tackled the hollow and demanded they hike together.

“Why?” Grimmjow asked from under Ichigo who sat on him, keeping him restrained until he agreed. “Give me one good reason not to cero your ass right now.”

Ichigo should have been afraid but instead he was amused. “See, this is what I missed, Grimmy-” the blunet blanched at the nickname- “Do you have any idea how boring it is to be a young adult in a town where the most exciting event in history already happened?”

Grimmjow glared at him and did not respond.

“It’s really boring. Really,” Ichigo answered for him. 

His smile was slightly off and there was a bit of a mad lilt to his words that spooked Grimmjow. Clearly, this was not the same Kurosaki he had fought in Hueco Mundo and teamed up with in the soul king’s palace. Now that he was looking, he could see flecks of gold shining on their own in his iris and black coloration creeping up from the sides of his sclera. Nope, definitely NOT the Kurosaki he fought and was tentative friends with.

“Ay Kurosaki, what the fuck’s wrong with you?” Grimmjow bluntly asked. When Kurosaki did not give a reply, he changed tactics and put more force into his efforts. “I’ll agree to ‘hike’ with you if you tell me why you’re actin’ mad as Szayal.”

For a moment, Ichigo weighed his options. Then, he jumped up with near inhuman speed and started walking between the trees. Grimmjow had to jog to catch up and when he did he was greeted with Ichigo smiling while effortlessly avoiding tree roots and pits. It was like he had night vision or something. 

“Like I said earlier, the town’s boring,” Ichigo said. He had an accent that was starting to come out and Grimmjow could not place it but he had heard it before. “So, one day, I started coming out here to find some adventure. There are a lot of animal trails to follow and more than a few caves that do not end. I fought a bear. Found the ruins of some house and saw this awesome spear..”

Grimmjow was finding it hard to keep up, mentally and physically. Kurosaki was walking through the forest like it was even, unobstructed terrain but Grimmjow was stumbling every few steps even with his advanced senses. Carrot-top fought a bear? Why? The more he walked next to him the less it seemed like he was walking with Kurosaki.

“... and then Chad told me he didn’t wanna spar with me anymore. So what was I sposed to do? Stop fighting?? Uh, no. I barely get to use Tensa as is and he was moody after the whole Yhwach thing an that was annoyin’ as hell. When King was sleeping I’d come out and run around and-” Kurosaki was cut off from his rambling.

“Who?”

The soul reaper stopped and faced Grimmjow. The sixth espada wanted to jump back and get at least fifty meters between them when he saw his face. The eyes were totally black with yellow-gold irises. They were the same eyes as Ichigo’s hollow mask, the one he had complete control over when fighting in the last war. Or so he thought.

“King. The man with the muscle. Tall guy with orange hair and brown eyes and a will to protect everyone but himself. Coulda sworn you’ve met,” the person who was very much not Kurosaki said. His face and body looked the same as his rival-friend but those eyes revealed he was absolutely different. When Grimmjow did not relax, a spark of realization passed over his face. “Oh. You’ve never met me. How rude of King to not mention me, his greatest asset. I’m Zangetsu.”

Well fuck. Now Grimmjow was thoroughly confused. “So, are you a rogue zanpakuto Kurosaki needs to find and cut down or are you… something else?”

Zangetsu’s head knocked back from the force of his laugh. It was loud and completely unappealing, but clearly one of self-made amusement. “Ya could say i’m ‘something else’. King never lets me out on my own so I’m not surprised ya don’t know,” he cleared his throat and tried to look intimidating, “I’m the hollow in Ichigo Kurosaki, the source of his soul reaper powers, and the one who kicked Ulqiorra’s ass.”

Grimmjow took in the information. 

“You say you’re a hollow,” Zangetsu nodded, “so you can make a cero.”

He understood. This was a challenge between hollows. He would have to blow the other challenger away to get his respect, literally. Zangetsu motioned for Grimmjow to back up a few feet and, despite his pride, he complied. 

Taking a deep breath, the black-eyed beast settled his stance and focused his eyes on one tree about seventy meters away. In the moonlight, the tree was barely visible but he marked it in his mind. The air pressure increased until it was hard to breath, the animals of the forest went silent, and Zangetsu called upon the powers he had since before being tied to the quincy soul. His skin began to glow and the image of a mask flickered over his features until horns a quarter meter long stretched from his head. 

Before Grimmjow could even blink, an area of the forest a kilometer long and several meters wide was missing with only an afterimage of red and smoke rising from the singed earth showing it was newly destroyed. After a beat, the sound hit his ears and he nearly fell to the ground. Like his laugh, Zangetsu’s cero was loud. The tree he had marked as his target had been in the center of the blast, and everything else was a casualty.

When he recovered his senses, Grimmjow stood tall and looked the other man up and down. The horns were freaky but they suited him, and the gold eyes he was scared of before now seemed playful.

The blunet scoffed in a joking manner. “That's your best?” 

Without giving a word of warning, Grimmjow raised his arm and fired a cero next to Zangetsu’s destruction. Another kilometer disappeared in a flash of light. This time, it was twice as wide and left red pools of liquid rock. The former espada smirked and glanced back at his new rival and friend.

“I think we’ll get along just fine.”


	2. The Waking Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ichigo wakes up in the forest, very confused, and missing a sword.   
> Where did his bed go? Why are there no trees? What kind of madman leaves a black metal sword lying in the sun?

Ichigo gradually became aware of the sound of birds chirping and the feeling of sunlight on his skin. The dirt on his hands was settled in a way that said it was mud hours ago and had only just solidified. The pleasant smell of crunchy leaves and autumn air would have been a welcome first breath if not for their existence at that exact moment.

His eyes flew open with a start and Ichigo sat up, completely alert and expecting a sword to the throat. Instead, he was shocked to see what used to be a forest. 

The sunlight he had felt on his skin was shining down in a kilometer radius around him and the bird song came from the singular tree left standing nearby. Everything else was rubble. No, not even rubble, that would imply there was something left after the destruction. What surrounded the confused soul reaper was absolute annihilation of all living matter.

“This… is not my bed,” Ichigo muttered to himself.

Last night, he had fallen asleep in his cozy bed after reading a book for several hours. He distinctly remembered taking off his fuzzy house slippers in order to put on socks since the house was so cold. He did not remember changing into black clothes and putting on sandals and running very far away from his comfy bed to rampage in the woods.

Getting up slowly, Ichigo was hit by the glare coming off a piece of metal a short distance away. His sword. Specifically, Zangetsu’s long sword. 

Ichigo picked up the cutting instrument and inspected the blade. It looked used, like someone had forgotten to clean it after chopping up bodies. Furthermore, it was thrumming with energy. Zangetsu only ever acted like that after fighting a particularly large hollow.

“You little shit, just what did you do last night?” Ichigo questioned his blade while holding it so he could see his own reflection.

The eyes that flashed back at him were gold and black and had white hair partially hiding them. “Why, what ever could ya mean? I have been nothing but a good, obedient sword,” Zangetsu feigned innocence and looked utterly surprised.

Ichigo was willing to believe him if not for the twitch of his lips at the mention of obedience. 

“Yeah, right. You probably took off on some wild hollow hunt again. I told you to stop doing that or else you’ll kill all the animals around here too,” Ichigo huffed, “and you did exactly that! Again!”

He did not wait to hear the reply or see the indignant expression that his reflection would show. Lifting the heavy sword, Ichigo strapped it to his back and began looking for its companion. His two swords were never far apart and if one was lying in the dirt waiting to blind him then the other was probably… in the shade trying to hide.

Ichigo stalked over to the tree and looked in its meager shade but saw nothing. He scanned the branches, the roots, the dirt, the small clump of grass turning brown at its base, and came up empty handed.

He growled in frustration and cursed his luck. “Getsu,” he called to his zanpakuto, “where is the other sword.”

When no voice responded (from either of the spirits), he tried reaching out with his reiatsu. 

Rukia had attempted to teach him the basics of soul reaper reiatsu training but he was utterly horrible at that. Ishida had made an effort to explain Quincy reiatsu tracking and that worked slightly better but ultimately he failed at finding anything other than himself. Which was why it surprised him so much to instantly feel a powerful hollow’s presence not too far into the treeline. Something about it was familiar as well, very familiar, like someone he had crossed swords with and vowed to beat and never followed through on that vow.

He started walking in the direction of it, focusing on the imprint the soul left on the air. Now that he was looking for it, he realized there was a lot of the same reiatsu amid the destruction, and it was not concealed at all. There was a lot of it on him as well. He was practically soaked in this hollow’s spiritual juices.

 _Oh god, that’s gross. Never think that again, Ichigo,_ he thought to himself. Still… why a hollow had gotten so close to him, not attacked in any visible way, and was lounging nearby without being dead made Ichigo wonder just what had happened last night. “Hey Getsu… you didn’t… y’know… do something last night, right?”

The inverted twin in his head scoffed and snarkily replied, “Hell no! I like at least a little foreplay before doing anything. Have a little trust in me, King.” Ichigo shook his head and cleared the foul thoughts from his mind.

Stepping into the area of the not-destroyed forest, Ichigo was careful to not make a sound. Whatever this hollow was, it clearly had the power to hurt him and had chosen not to. Which left an interesting question of _why_. 

A twig snapped under his foot when he lost his focus and he felt the spiritual pressure from the beast spike. His own rose to the challenge and just as quickly shut off. 

Zangetsu had shut off his spiritual pressure.

“At any other time, I would have been elated to know you can do that!” The orange haired man whisper-shouted. His hollow-spirit had some talking to do once they were done investigating the newest threat to the area. Hiding his spiritual presence would have been a great asset during any of his past fights.

Before Ichigo could take another step or wonder about what else Zangetsu could do, a hand shot out from around a tree and pushed him to the ground. The fall knocked the air from his lungs and he closed his eyes while reorienting himself. 

The spiritual pressure coming down onto him kept his lungs from fully refilling so he could not gather himself completely again.

“Who… what, what are you?” Ichigo asked when he opened one eye and could only make out a human figure. Something about the outline was familiar, similar to how the reiatsu was.

The figure above him scoffed and leaned down to look closer at him and that’s when Ichigo realized it.

“G-Grimmjow?” He yelped. Not the most dignified of greetings, but at least he had not been cut open like in previous encounters. 

“Oh, Kurosaki.” The blue haired man sounded almost sad to say his name. Was he expecting someone else? Was the bright orange hair and huge sword not a dead giveaway?The spiritual pressure lightened up until Ichigo could once again stand. 

Once the two were face to face, Ichigo noticed something odd: Grimmjow was not trying to fight him.

In all other encounters with the sexta espada, Ichigo had to either dodge or grab his sword to prepare for an attack. Even when they were on the same side while fighting Yhwach neither let their guard down too much. Seeing Grimmjow without a snarl on his face made him look oddly docile, like he was when Orihime healed them before their Big Battle.

Wait. What was he doing thinking about _Grimmjow “I will cut you down when you’re at your best” Jaegarjaquez_ like that? He was not docile, and he certainly was not cute when he looked calm. This was a dangerous threat to souls and society but… he was at least moderately alright to look at when not trying to tear Ichigo’s throat out. Ripping throats out, biting into his skin, raking claws across him, flashing those sharp perfect teeth from above him… Nope! Not good to think about! He was **not** thinking of that maniac like that.

Ichigo cleared his throat and shifted on his feet, looking at anything except the ex-espada in front of him. “So… what brings you to this neck of the woods?” He blushed when he said neck but covered it by coughing discreetly into his elbow and hiding his face.

Grimmjow did not answer immediately. Instead, he eyed Ichigo carefully, really stared him down, searching for a trace of something that was being repressed. “I was hunting. I normally do that around here. Your reiatsu draws in a lot of hollows so there are always prey.” His tone was gruff and he said it like he was reporting to Gin or Urahara. He sighed and looked at the lone standing tree, “I don’t want to fight you quite yet.”

“Why not?” Ichigo balked. This was supposed to be his rival, his enemy, his ultimate fight, why not have it settled right then? “Give me one good reason not to fight me right now.”

Grimmjow’s jaw clicked and he turned angry eyes on the other man. “Well for one, you’re missing a sword. And for two, I don’t want to fight you when you still have bed-head!”

Ichigo immediately turned red and swung his sword to the front. Looking in the reflection, he once again saw gold eyes and white hair, but this time he noticed the hair was sticking up on just one side like a huge cat had licked it from neck to crown. Zangetsu was laughing at him but the effect was less mocking thanks to him having the same hair.

“Why didn’t you say anything? I look like an idiot!” Ichigo yelled at his sword. 

Grimmjow raised his eyebrows when his rival shouted at a piece of metal, but quickly dropped them when he noticed the reflection. He reached over Ichigo’s shoulder and tilted the blade so he could see the non-matching face better. Blue eyes met gold and a conversation of blinking and winking and staring occurred. Ichigo did not understand what was happening.

After a few too many winks between the two, he finally spoke up. “Uhhh… can someone fill me in?”

Grimmjow kept his hold on the sword, looking over Ichigo’s head, while he responded, “Just checking your blade, Kuosaki. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

Ichigo dropped the sharpened metal and turned his head to yell at the offensive man. “My WHAT-” 

He cut himself off when he realized how close they were standing. Grimmjow’s long right arm hung over his shoulder, his chest nearly touching Ichigo’s back, his masked cheek close enough for him to see divots in the “teeth”. 

“N-nevermind,” the soul reaper mumbled as he stepped away from a lightly blushing Grimmjow.

The two did not look at each other. 

“I gotta go do some-”

“Lot’s of work-”

“Should find the other sword-”

“Yeah you do that.”

“...”

Ichigo chanced a peak back at his supposed rival. He was also sneaking a look back.

The orange hair man settled himself with a deep breath and spoke, “I’ll see you around, Grimmjow.” Then he flash-stepped into the air and started running home.

“Don’t come back too soon,” Grimmjow said, but his words were too soft and the other man too far away to hear them. Maybe next time.


	3. The Calling a Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grimmjow gets a call from his friend asking to meet up again.  
> Ichigo makes a call to an old ally seeking some help.

Grimmjow stood in the clearing, waiting impatiently. He was told to meet there at exactly 1 in the morning. He was there. His friend was not.

The grass in the clearing was growing back. Although it was late autumn by then, nature was stubborn and refused to have exposed earth. Every few days, Zangetsu and Grimmjow would go to the clearing where they had their first encounter. They would spend the whole night challenging each other in various ways: cero blasting, sword slicing, best martial arts, nerf gun fight, coolest collection of rocks/bones/teeth, and such. 

Recently, their competitions were getting more daring. The last time they met - two nights ago - Zangetsu had used Hollow Bait to summon a gillian. However, since they were also hollows, they became intoxicated off the blast of reiryoku and stumbled through fighting off over a hundred low level menos. It was an embarrassing night for both of them. But, something about it was still fun. Even when Zangetsu had barely missed getting his arm bitten off, they were laughing and smiling. 

For a hollow there was nothing more exhilarating than ripping and tearing and _killing_ everything in sight. 

Which meant the opposite was true for waiting and not being told what was going on. 

"That fucker. I was on the trail of an adjuchas in the area too. Should've never agreed to get a phone. Next time he calls me I'm going to-" Grimmjow’s angry muttering was cut off as he heard a high pitched whistling pass by his ear. A few meters in front of him, something exploded into dazzling lights and blasting sounds.

He whipped around to face his attacker and blinked the spots from his sensitive eyes. Instead of seeing a vicious beast about to end his life, he saw a man in the black clothes of a soul reaper pointing some kind of projectile at him. He had barely a second to register gold eyes and orange hair before a spark went off and the object was shooting toward him.

He could not jump out of the way even with his sonido. Grimmjow had a second to brace himself for the blast and cover his face. The whistling approached him, seemed to hit, then kept going behind him.

The ex-espada dropped his arms and looked at himself. His jacket was fine, his pants were slightly singed and his shirt… had a huge hole in it that was still smoking. 

“Holy-” Zangetsu cut himself off with a laugh. “I didn’t think you’d actually stand there.”

Grimmjow gingerly picked at his ruined shirt. There was no way the soft cotton could be salvaged. He shrugged off his jacket and pulled the shirt up to take it off, then he realized where the rocket had been shot. 

It went through his hollow hole.

Without thinking twice - as was his norm - he ripped the shirt off and doubled over to look at his hole. It was supposed to be extremely sensitive and one of his worst weaknesses. How the hell did a rocket go through without him even noticing? Nothing looked burned or bumped and he could stick his hand through without pain so he was probably alright.

Reassured, he refocused on the laughing man in front of him. After watching Grimmjow contort himself to see through his belly, Zangetsu was on the ground with tears in his eyes. “Hey! That could have hurt me! We agreed we wouldn’t turn weapons on each other!!” Grimmjow stalked over to the form and reached down to grab the front of his shirt. “You ever do that again and I’ll-”

He was once again cut off by a rocket shooting under his (now exposed) arm. The skin prickled from the sparks and he released his hand.

“This ain’t a weapon. It’s a toy... kinda,” Zangetsu mocked when he stood up again. With a flick of his fingers, the item in his hand was lit and the rocket set off. 

Standing so close, Grimmjow stood no chance. He was hit dead in the chest. The ‘toy’ did not hurt so much as it shocked him. The thing continued to shoot around and send out lights and sounds when it bounced off his chest. It rammed into a rock and exploded like the first. 

Now Grimmjow was feral. The lights and sounds were setting off all his senses and he wanted to chase the flashes and destroy them at the same time. It was completely unfair and not cool.

“Stop doing that, bastard!” He growled at his friend. The man looked at him with innocent eyes even as he reached up his sleeve and pulled another out. “Oh **Hell** no.”

Grimmjow tried to tackle him, but Zangetsu jumped out of the way. That movement proved to be a mistake when the ex-espada spotted a box sitting under a tree nearby. There were dozens of rockets in it. 

He side-eyed the hollow aiming another rocket at him, and he ran to the stash of toys.

Zangetsu yelled a moment too late. Grimmjow grabbed the stick a rocket was attached to and shot a small cero to light the string at its end. As predicted, it shot off the stick and straight into the gold eyed man. 

His hands came up just in time for the projectile to slam into them instead of his neck. The mark it left on his hand was red and angry before the spent cartridge fell to the ground.

“Ahahah, this just got a Lot more fun,” Grimmjow chuckled while reaching for another.

The two hollows spent the next hour running through the woods, strategically firing bottle rockets at anything that moved (mainly themselves). There were a few trees as casualties but they did not catch fire so all was well. The sky was lit by the stray explosion and the air was thick with smoke and ash from the sparking.

When the duo had spent their last rocket and the lighter was out of fluid and they could run no more, they met in their clearing again. Grimmjow had bruises forming on his chest and scratches along his arms from running in the woods shirtless. Zangetsu looked much the same with his clothes in tatters and only his pants left without holes. They looked like they had fought a bear and lost (which was a familiar look for one of them). 

“That was…” Grimmjow tried to find the right words as he walked toward his friend.

“Exhilarating?” Zangetsu provided.

“Yeah, that.” The blue haired hollow nodded and stopped. There was something about Zangetsu’s gaze in that moment. The waxing moon glinted off his sweated skin and made it sparkle. His orange hair did not look so outrageous, it looked silky and soft enough to run hands through, even dirty hands like his. The gold irises that used to scare Grimmjow were friendly and inviting. He felt comfortable, safe even, looking into them. 

He was slowly leaning closer, trying to pick out the lines and speckles in those amber eyes. They were so unique and every time he saw them he wanted to study them, he wanted to slip into those pools of honey and drown, he wanted to be the only one to look at them. He wanted to be seen by them the way he never dared to be seen by anyone else.

Zangetsu closed the distance between them. Their lips met with a crash and neither thought as they kissed.

It was another kind of challenge. Another friendly experience. Another something they did together without anyone else in the world knowing. 

Grimmjow settled his hand on Zangetsu’s back and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. They pressed together, skin touching heated skin, and said what they were thinking without speaking. He pushed for more, letting his tongue slide into the other’s mouth; felt sharp teeth and a shiver race up his spine. The danger of being so open with a being designed to kill… he wanted to live in that feeling.

They were on the edge of losing control when they pulled away and drank in the air and each other. Their faces were flushed red and Grimmjow’s pupils were blown wide.

“How’s that for exhilarating?” Zangetsu breathed. Instead of answering, Grimmjow tilted his head and captured his lips in another kiss. “I’ll take it as a yes.” 

They stood in that clearing of their own destruction with tattered clothes and heated skin, letting loose in a way neither of them had been able to before. Two hollows alone in the woods. Nothing attacking except each other, feeling bites and nips where they want them. This was a challenge, but it was one neither lost.

\---o.0.o---

The next morning Ichigo sat in his room, staring at his cell phone on his desk and wondering if he should send the text or try to call. He had been contemplating who he could ask about his hollow problem and decided only the Visored would maybe have answers.

Shinji had given him a phone number a few months ago with instructions to call him only if it was an emergency. They had trained together before the Winter War and were friends in the way two people with the same hat were. Ichigo had not texted him yet partially because he did not know if they were on good enough terms to chat freely. He did not have emergencies anymore since the biggest threat to the world was gone, and his minor issues of friends being depressed and not hanging out with him as much seemed trivial at best. Although, his hollow taking over his body and going on midnight excursions seemed like it might be an emergency.

His mind settled, Ichigo reached for his phone and typed the number. Before he could press the ‘send’ button, the screen changed to an incoming call. It was Shinji. What a coincidence.

Ichigo accepted it and lifted the device to his ear. "Yo, I was just about to-"

"Ichigo is your hollow going wild and trying to destroy everything in your life?" Shinji questioned immediately. He sounded desperate. No, that's not right, he actually sounded tired and annoyed and a little bit pleading. This was not what the orange haired man expected to hear.

"Uhhh… yeah, I guess. Is something going on with you?" 

"You could say that," the Visored captain sighed, "my hollow has been pestering me for weeks to let him out so he can 'play with the others like during the war’. Yesterday he forced himself out and I watched as he chopped off my hair!" 

Ichigo wanted to laugh. It was stuck in his throat and he knew if he breathed too hard it would come out. Shinji was upset about getting a haircut.

"I know what you mean. Getsu was out a few times last week and again tonight. He had managed to destroy part of the woods outside town and I think he stole some explosives. I'm surprised no one was hurt," Ichigo said. He had a smile on his face while he said it, but the topic was not amusing. 

Shinji paused, collecting himself once more, before speaking. "This could be really bad. The captain commander is fine with the Visored being in Soul Society but if he finds out we can't control our hollows, we might be kicked to the human world again. How did Getsu get out?"

"I don't know. When I reforged him, we agreed I was in control and he would not get to surface without me. But he went against that agreement last night, again." He felt the urge to pace his room, walking around helped him think straight. "He won't tell me what he was doing out. And I saw Grimmjow there one time! His reiatsu was everywhere but he was acting… civil."

Ichigo felt his skin prickle at the mention of Grimmjow. He remembered the bony structure of his mask and how his estigma was more green up close, the faint breath against his face when he was a bit too close, his pinkened skin before they parted ways. He was surprised was all; it was normal to have that reaction when he was suddenly close to someone. 

He walked a bit faster after those thoughts.

"Ichigo? Kid? Did you hear what I just said?" Shinji repeated. 

The substitute soul reaper coughed lightly and responded. "Sorry Shinji, I wasn't listening just then. Something… was on my mind."

The captain's dubious stare was nearly visible through the call. "O-kay. I said to try and talk with your hollow. You have the closest relationship with yours out of all of us, seeing as how he is part of your zanpakuto and all. Ask him why he is trying to get out and tell him to knock it off."

"You know I'm not good at that stuff. The only times I went into my mindscape were to get my zanpakuto and when I was forced into there. I'm not good at just… going there," Ichigo tried to explain himself.

He knew what the other man was talking about. The visored used a form of meditation to talk to their hollows and subjugate them. If they did not periodically go back to talk, the hollows would get upset and refuse to lend their powers, clawing their way to consciousness until the soul reaper could no longer hold them back and they turned into a hollow. Something similar had happened to him after Ulquiorra blasted a cero through him. It was worse than any pain he experienced, mainly because the hollow was eating up parts of his soul in order to stay out.

The only problem Ichigo had with doing that was how much he sucked at meditating.

"You don't have to do the whole 'lotus position and saying ohms' thing to do it. Just relax and let the world fall away until you're back there. If you go in voluntarily you can maintain control of the world," Shinji explained to him. It was not the first time he told him what to do. When they trained, they finished the day off with relaxation and a chat with their hollows, but that was in a different circumstance and Zan and Getsu had practically pulled him into the mindscape.

Ichigo sat on his bed, unable to pace fast enough to keep up with his energy and anxiety, and thought about his options. He could ignore the problem and see if Getsu settled down after a while but that would mean he could not help the other visored, or he could bite the bullet and try to relax for once in his adult life. Both were messy and painful, but one involved not fighting for his life again.

"Let's just see if our hollows settle down on their own. Maybe they wanted something to do since the wars are over?" He tried to pitch it as a reasonable theory but he knew it was not.  
He did not want to go back in his mindscape quite yet, did not want to see Zan who looked like Yhwach and did not want to fight again with Getsu. Ichigo did not fear anything about that, he simply did not want to go.

The call was silent for a moment and he wondered if Shinji had hung up on him. "If you say so," the other man finally replied. "But if this doesn't go away in a week, I'm coming down to Karakura so we can work through it." 

The call dropped and Ichigo was alone with his thoughts. 

Ichigo dropped his cell onto his bed and stared at the wall. Posters of book characters with magic and guns and knives looked back at him. They had their story figured out, knew they would win, knew they would be alive and in control at the end. Ichigo was envious of them and their preconceived lives. He wanted that safety and comfort and group of friends that do not drop contact when the fighting is over. He wished he did not have someone else in his head pestering to be let out and destroy everything he has worked so hard for.

"Getsu, if I have to go in there again… you won't see the light of day for years," he whispered, knowing the soul in question would hear it.


	4. The Palming and Holding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ichigo thought if he could stay awake forever then Zangetsu would never come out. He was wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, this is a longer chapter since you had to wait longer between updates. I was going to include more "activities" but I would've spent another day and a half and editing and that didn't seem fair to make you dedicated readers wait.

“Wow, you look like shit.” Ichigo was sitting at the table eating a bowl of cereal, eyes glazed over and missing his mouth with every third spoonful. Karin snorted and sat down with her breakfast, “did you sleep at all last night?”

Ichigo nodded, paused, then shook his head like a dog. The dark bags under his eyes looked painful from the way he squinted his eyes to see clearer. “I haven’t slept in… eleven days. Wait. Twelve, I forgot sunday was a day.”

Karin eyed her brother once again. Her eyebrows rose and her nose scrunched. Her brother consistently went to bed at midnight, and then woke up at one in the morning to jump out of his body and run off to gods know where. It was surprising he was only just now showing signs of being tired.

“Why?” Karin asked the obvious question.

“I, uhhhh, have a problem,” Ichigo gathered his words and chewed on them before spitting them back out, “a problem with… me? Getsu is running out when I go to sleep so I gotta stay up. Wait him out. He can’t get out if I’m still here.” While the words made sense, they were mumbled between mouthfuls of cereal; Karin was still confused and becoming more concerned.

The siblings munched on their food as they thought their own thoughts, Karin about her brother and Ichigo about nothing. 

A clock ticked, sending its repetitive noise across the house. The faucet in the kitchen dripped a pattern of drip-drip-drop into a dirty dish from Yuzu’s early meal. Birds singing in the morning light filtered in through the windows. A single silver spoon dropped to the table, and then a head fell into a half-empty bowl of cereal.

Ichigo had reached his limit and passed out.

Before Karin had time to jump up and pull his head out so he did not drown, it pulled up as if yanked by some invisible hand. She released a breath and settled back down but something was… not right. The aura around him was completely different from before. Hesitantly, she looked into his milk soaked face and nearly yelled. 

His eyes were black and yellow.

“What the fu-”

He smirked. It was not natural. His lips were spread too thin and too much teeth showed. Karin felt herself shaking, but she could not look away from those demonic eyes. 

“Thanks, sis. I’ve been tryna get him to sleep for a week.” Ichigo’s voice was scratchy, its pitch varying too much between words. This was definitely not her brother. “If he asks, just tell him I put him to bed and let him sleep.” 

He stood up and walked to the sink, dropped his dishes in it, wiped off his face, then calmly walked upstairs. Karin was still rooted to her chair when he returned wearing day clothes and a pair of sunglasses. He nodded once at her, then stepped out the front door.

\---o.0.o---

The first few times he walked by, Grimmjow did not acknowledge him. He was too focused watching the people in a shop slurp soup to notice the man smiling at him from an arm’s length away. After the fourth pass, Zangetsu had had enough. He stepped closer, leaned down, and scooped the ex-espada into his arms like a big cat.

Grimmjow, understandably, punched him in the throat.

Realization hit him a second too late as he saw the bright orange hair of his attacker. “Fuck, Getsu, don’t sneak up on me like that! I’m not suddenly okay with being snagged since we...”

If he was not trying so hard to breathe, Zangetsu would have laughed at how the man stopped before saying ‘kissed’. At the moment, he was struggling to have a working windpipe. He managed a smile and squeezed his arms while still holding the arrancar.

“I thought ‘is would-” he coughed a final time to clear his throat, “-be funny to greet you with. Guess I forgot you’re not human.”

Grimmjow quirked his brow. “You didn’t talk to me for two weeks so I didn’t think I’d see you here. And I would’ve punched anyone who held me without warning.”

“You sayin’ I can grab ya anytime as long as I tell ya first?” Zangetsu said with a shit-eating grin. A quick cero to the clouds was enough warning for the human-bodied hollow to drop the man and the subject. For now.

Grimmjow landed with more grace than necessary and smoothly stood up. His normal black shirt was gone and all he had was his white jacket to cover his muscled torso. Of course, he wore it open so any wandering soul could get an eyeful of the arrancar’s chest. Zangetsu was not excited about that but he did not have any soul-clothes on hand. And it was not too terribly bad to be able to see the man’s chiseled abs in daylight for once.

“C’mon, there’s somewhere I’ve been wanting to try out with you,” Zangetsu said after he tore his eyes away. Maybe he blushed as he said it, maybe he was just angry about the people staring at him like a psycho. 

Grimmjow let a small smile touch his lips before following the orange haired man.

The pair walked into town, shoulders nearly touching, and enjoyed the silence. Zangetsu pointed the way and they turned and crossed roads until they arrived at a dazzling building. The outside had blacked out windows with neon words printed on them, the doors were automatic and let out sounds of ringing and whooping and yelling when they opened. Grimmjow was familiar with the place, but never had a reason to go in before.

“Welcome to the Arcade,” reverence laced Zangetsu’s voice as he spoke. He looked to be beaming with excitement upon seeing the rows of video games, skee ball runs, and air hockey tables. “We’re gonna have a challenge.”

“What do I get when I win?” Grimmjow confidently said. He had never played any of the games before, but he was dedicated to beating his friend at everything he proposed.

Zangetsu got a handful of his jacket collar and pulled him close. His minty breath puffed onto the other’s lips, staying just far enough away to tempt but not give in. “I’ll let you decide what we do next.” 

Grimmjow grinned at the implication and closed the distance between them for just a moment. Then, he was strolling to the air hockey tables. He only had to wait a moment before Zangetsu recovered and joined him.

Unluckily for Ichigo, his wallet was opened and his funds were deposited into the machine. 

The table started blowing air and the scoreboard lit up 0-0. Zangetsu grabbed the blue mallet and left the orange one for his opponent; the irony did not escape his notice. The puck was placed at the centerline and both players counted down before the clashing sounded.

Zangetsu struck the puck first. It whizzed to the right rail and bounced off, heading straight for Grimmjow’s goal. Only his quick reflexes saved him from embarrassment, but it did not save him from the return shot that was even more powerful. The first point went to the orange haired man.

“Next time, Blue, try and hit the puck more than once,” Zangetsu advised. The shades on his face could barely hide the mirth in his eyes.

Grimmjow was lit up. The combination of losing the first point - essentially showing he was slower - and the nickname made him feel a fire burn in his chest like when Pantera was in his hands. “Shut up. It’s only one point. You won’t be getting any others.”

Zangetsu chuckled and shook his head then placed the puck in the center again. He liked his panther when he bared his teeth.

They counted down again and Grimmjow got control of the puck. He was figuring out how to strike the damned thing with his mallet when he accidentally sent it skittering across the table to Zangetsu. The hollow gleefully shot it back, aiming just left of the goal, and laughed boldly when Grimmjow failed to stop it from bouncing off the back rail and returning to him. He repeated the move several times, watching Grimmjow grow more angry before he shot it into his unprotected goal. The arrancar was expecting the puck to go to his left again and was caught completely unawares by the sudden change.

“FUCK YOU THAT DOESN’T COUNT!” Grimmjow shouted across the table. His angry words did not reach their desired mark as Zangetsu nearly fell down from laughing so hard. 

“It's only (haha) one point,” he retorted while composing himself again.

Grimmjow grabbed the puck and slapped it to the center, grumbling the whole time. His knuckles were white from gripping his mallet so hard. He would **not** be made a fool of again.

Zangetsu struck the puck, intending for a straight shot and a quick point to add salt to the fire in his opponent. Instead, he heard a slam and blinked his eyes as Grimmjow pushed the puck from under his mallet and barely got it into the hollow’s goal. His smile was all teeth when he looked at the man across from him.

“That was… so illegal.”

The smirk dropped. “The hell do you mean? I stopped the thing and shot it back at your goal. That point is good and mine!” Grimmjow’s indignant roar startled a group of kids in the arcade, but they shrugged it off when they could not see him.

Zangetsu looked at him like he had sprouted two heads. “Ya can’t put your mallet on top of the puck.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s illegal!” Grimmjow tilted his chin up and crossed his arms, looking utterly unconvinced. “It’s called palming and you’re not allowed to do it. It’s no fair for the opponent.”

A flicker of something passed through Grimmjow’s mind and he smiled for a split second before returning to his anger. “What’s so bad about palming? I thought it was a good move. It stopped you from scoring and I used it to get my point.”

“I told ya. It ain’t fair,” Zangetsu huffed. He felt like a child saying that, but he would not abide by someone breaking the sacred rules he and Ichigo had followed during months of practice. “If you’re gonna play dirty, then I’ll play dirty too.”

Grimmjow’s anger turned into another emotion and he leaned over the table to take off Zangetsu’s glasses and look him in the eyes. “I’ll play dirty when I want,” the hollows stared each other down, “but I’ll play clean and wipe the floor with you still.”

The effect would have worked if Zangetsu had not pointed to the scoreboard.

After that, it was only a few minutes until Grimmjow had to be tackled so he did not use Pantera to slice the air hockey table to bits. The final score was… not in his favor.

“Whatever. Let’s do another game,” he huffed and threw a last angry glance at the table before walking to the skee ball runs. Zangetsu crossed his arms and did not move. “Huh? Don’t want to lose against me this time?”

“I won. I get to pick the game,” the hollow replied. He turned away from the runs and walked to a video game. “This one. King used to do this one with his friends, he wouldn’t let me out for it though. Said something about not wanting to tell them he could lose control of me sometimes.”

Grimmjow thought about his options for a moment, then gave in. He had to beat Zangetsu at this next challenge if he wanted to recoup his lost pride. He would not be made a fool of a second time. 

The game in question had one screen at eye level and a raised platform with two sections. Each section had two blue arrows and two pink arrows and a red rail for the user to lean on. The screen flashed with moving bodies and neon words that pierced Grimmjow’s sensitive eyes, and music blasted from large speakers in the front of the setup with a consistent bass thump that made his heartbeat change to follow along. When Zangetsu stepped on the platform, words materialized on the screen in big, bold font: Dance Dance Revolution Extreme.

Grimmjow stood next to the platform and stared deadpan at his friend. “I’m not dancing.” 

“Oh come on! It’s easy. Just tap the arrow with your feet when it comes on screen.” Zangetsu extended a hand in offering to the taller hollow and smiled when he begrudgingly took it and stepped up next to him. “I’ll get the song going and you just gotta move your feet. And even when you look stupid, ain’t nobody can see you ‘cause you’re a ghost.”

At the reminder of his missing physical body, Grimmjow’s nerves calmed. He did not have anything to be nervous about in the first place; none of his fraccion could make fun of him for jumping around and tapping his feet in certain ways anymore, and he did not know any souls in town who could or would see him. It was just him and Zangetsu, on the dance mats, about to crush whoever had a high score before them.

Zangetsu took off his sunglasses, shook his body loose, and selected the song he wanted. A slow and steady beat came on and the narrator in the machine asked the starting words “ **Are You Ready?** ” 

Grimmjow struggled to hit the arrows on time for the first half of the song, but after he figured that out he was unstoppable. Zangetsu earned mostly ‘Good’s while Grimmjow had a nearly even split between ‘Ok’ and ‘Perfect’. Their scores, unfortunately, declared the arrancar the winner.

“Let’s do it again. You pick music,” he demanded with a smile on his face. He loved this kind of competition that relied on speed and sound and being plain old better than the opponent. “Do something harder.”

Zangetsu smirked to himself and scrolled through the list of music until he found the one he wanted. It was a quick, flashy, english song that had repeating lyrics and lots of jumping to hit the next arrow. It was also ironic considering the name of the song was something neither of them would ever become since their souls could only be cleansed by being killed from a zanpakuto. The song? Butterfly.

The narrator came on, spoke his piece, then the beat started and all hell broke loose on the dance boards. 

Grimmjow moved like he knew exactly what would happen next, exactly where to place his feet, and exactly how to toe the board so he could pop right on to the next arrow. Zangetsu missed a few arrows since his human body was not nearly as coordinated with dancing when it was going on twelve days with no sleep. Still, he managed to keep the scores from being too embarrassing. 

By the end of the song, it was clear who was the better dancer. Even so, they both insisted on another round. And another. And yet another just in case Zangetsu suddenly got good.

The final note of their last song passed and the tired human-bodied hollow collapsed onto his support railing. His skin was flushed a healthy pink and he was sweating from exertion. He laughed and sucked in breath before facing his competitor. “Alright. You won this one. But only because King ain’t been sleeping much.”

“Yeah yeah, i could’ve beat you even if you weren’t in that body. Face it, I’m better than you,” Grimmjow’s arrogant smile and ego-fueled words were only compounded by how feral he looked. His already ridiculously styled hair stuck up in new directions from all the hopping and stepping he did, and his eyes looked a little too wide and wild for a civilized person. 

He was high off his victory and adrenaline.

“I’ve nothin to admit. We’re still tied. You’ve won one, I’ve won one. We gotta settle this.” Zangetsu hauled himself off the rail and poked a finger into Grimmjow’s very muscled and lightly damp chest. “Now choose what you're gonna lose at.”

The blue haired man glanced down at the digit touching his skin, raised his hand to it, and deftly brought the other man’s hand to his lips. “I’ll choose, you’ll lose, and then I’ll collect my winnings.” With the palm facing up, he pressed his lips to the pulse at Zangetsu’s wrist, and nipped at it.

Zangetsu yanked his hand away and inspected the damage. Two tiny indents reddened his skin but seemed otherwise harmless. He, a hollow, a beast of destruction and greed and pride, did not enjoy being nipped at without warning.

“That makes the score 2-1. I win,” grinned Grimmjow.

Zangetsu spluttered and shoved the other off the dance platform, “you ain’t won anything! I didn’t know we were competing then!” He continued pushing and poking Grimmjow even as they walked out of the arcade. He would not accept defeat from such a cheap tactic.

“That’s a hollow classic! Every adjuchas knows it: first one to get bit loses.” Grimmjow laughed at the indignant expression on his friend’s face. “You got bit, you lost, and now I want my prize.”

Sour as he was, Zangetsu kept his word. He did not break promises unless the promise would hurt Ichigo, and as long as Grimmjow did not get _too_ creative he was fine with admitting defeat. “Alright. What’d you want to do next? Fight in the sky? Another round of Hollow Bait? Scaring humans by making objects float in the air?”

The arrancar looked to be thinking hard about the question, then shrugged. He looked into the distance and frowned as if he had come to a disappointing conclusion. Zangetsu felt a twinge of regret at seeing his friend look downcast and began to wonder if it was because of his words. He had not meant to hurt his feelings by implying they should fight.

“I guess I have to take you to bed,” sighed Grimmjow

Wait.

What?

Zangetsu stopped walking. He could not process the sounds around him as his brain was too focused reviewing what he heard. Surely, Grimmjow had not implied they should… do the deed after their first date. Was this a date? They had not said anything for or against the idea and this is what dates were supposed to be like if Ichigo’s books had any say. Were they friends that kiss or boyfriends or something in between?

Someone grabbed his arm and yanked him forward. “Don’t just stop in the middle of the road! You’re human and could get hurt like that!” yelled Grimmjow. He sounded concerned and angry, like Zangetsu had done something very stupid that was completely avoidable. Which he had. Because Grimmjow had suggested something ridiculous.

“You, uh, said we were- were going to have sex,” Zangetsu faltered. Normally, he was a master of his emotions and did not so much as blush at the mention of intimacy. But he was totally unprepared for the bluntness of Grimmjow’s statement. His face looked red as a tomato.

The man in reference cocked his head and looked quizzically at Zangetsu. “I never said we were going to- OH! Oh..” Embarrassment flooded his face as he realized the implications of his words. “I, I didn’t mean it like ‘take you to _bed_ bed. I meant actually putting you in bed- not sexually! - because you were tired and I don’t want you if you’re not at your best. Not that I don’t want you! I do! But it wouldn’t be good for either of us if we, uh, did that when we couldn’t focus and take our time and relax,” he rambled and stuttered. 

It was cute, Zangetsu decided, seeing the big, strong arrancar fumbling his words and trying to correct himself. It was very cute.

Grimmjow was cut off from his babbling by lips covering his own. The unexpected act was enough to short circuit his nervous brain and all he could do was gaze at gold eyes filled with an unknown emotion.

“Thanks. King doesn’t want me taking anyone to bed with his body. So, that works better,” Zangetsu said. His eyes roamed over Grimmjow’s face, watching as he came back to reality. “I’d like to, um, roll in the sheets at some point, but now ain’t the time.”

The two blushing and bumbling hollows stood on a street corner, trying to tell each other they wanted to be more than kissing buddies but unable to overcome the obstacles in their way. For one, pride and morals stopped him from nabbing the man and running into the hollow world to live together; for the other, ties to someone else that he could not break from made him turn down the prospects. 

“You gonna… take me back home so’s I can sleep?” Zangetsu hedged after a few moments of silence between them.

Grimmjow shook his head of the lingering fuzziness from the kiss and responded, “Yeah, I’ll drop you off there. Don’t want you getting jumped or falling asleep in the middle of the street or something.” They both agreed to that sentiment and made their way to Kurosaki Clinic. 

When they arrived, no one was there to greet them. Isshin’s spiritual pressure was missing and Karin and Yuzu’s bikes were gone, which meant the house was totally silent and perfect for napping.

Grimmjow said goodbye at the door and left (after a quick kiss), leaving behind explicit instructions for Zangetsu to go to sleep. Because he had agreed to it earlier, he obediently went to his room, shut the curtains to get the room dark, and laid down to rest. 

His final thoughts before drifting to unconsciousness and relinquishing control of the body were about Grimmjow and how he was going to tell Ichigo about them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (minor edits for grammar and clarity 05/20/20)


	5. The Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ichigo wakes up to someone telling him to go on a hollow hunt.

Ichigo woke up to his cell ringing. It’s monotone beep-beep-beeping reminded him more of an alarm than a phone, but he had chosen it for that purpose. He only got called in an emergency, anything less would be texted. His eyes still bleary from sleep, voice unused to words after the hours of snoring, he answered the call and shoved the to phone to his ear. 

A rumbling voice sounded off on the other side of the line. Ichigo had to focus his ears to hear actual syllables instead of just noises, but that was difficult for his very much still asleep mind.

“-ello? Yo, are you there?” the voice repeated. 

Ah! He could **understand** again! Taking care to eloquently phrase his response, Ichigo said, “ehguhh,” and mentally slapped himself.

The voice didn’t seem to notice his lack of sentence - or word - structure, and continued on with the conversation as if it were normal to hear grunts and groans instead of actual phrases. “Alright, so I was thinking we could check out that one trail in the woods today and see what’s been chasing away the animals there. I smelled a hollow in that area so I’m sure that’s it, but if that’s the case… it’s an adjuchas at least. I’ll meet you at your house in a couple minutes. Don’t be late! You made me wait way too long last time, I ain’t taking your crap this time!”

Before Ichigo could get a word in edgewise or ask for clarification, the line went dead.

Well. It would seem he had a date. A prompt one at that. 

But just who would want to go on a date with Ichigo? Someone who knew where he lived and that he would wake up to his phone. Someone who he had hung out with in the past. Someone who woke up early (since it was definitely just after sunrise) and would be up for a hunt in the woods. Who in the hell did Ichigo know that had all those qualities? The only person who kinda fit that description was Chad, but he would probably die before calling Ichigo. So maybe it was Mizuiro? He had wanted to be more involved in the spiritual stuff since his visit to Soul Society, but there was no way; his voice was not that deep.

Deciding it did not matter since he was going to meet up in a few minutes anyways, Ichigo dragged himself out of bed and changed into proper clothes. This meant black socks with little crosses on them (from Ishida), his usual skinny jeans, a blue long sleeved shirt, tan sweater, and a matching blue beanie. His entire wardrobe seemed to be in shades of blue and tan, despite his memory saying it should have more colors than that. He would have checked his outfit in the mirror but he could not find one in his room. The one that normally hung on the bathroom wall was gone as well, leaving Ichigo to hope his hair was reasonable and his teeth did not have any remaining gunk after he brushed them. 

When he was finished getting ready, he went downstairs to grab a breakfast bar only to find the kitchen completely empty. It was like someone had stolen all the food in the house. And all the utensils. And, now that he was thinking about it, all the curtains and blinds were closed. No one in his family kept the house like this, least of all Yuzu.

Just as he thought that, his light-haired little sister poked her head around the corner. 

“Ichi-nii! What are you doing up so early?” she bubbled and smiled that dazzling smile at him. Her outfit consisted of jeans, a pale yellow turtleneck, and fuzzy yellow house slippers. She looked adorable. And oblivious to the lack of food and cookware in “her area”.

“I’m looking for a quick snack, I need to meet someone soon and don’t have time for breakfast. I’m sorry, I know you wanted to make something special for the family since It’s the start of the week but… I didn’t see any food,” Ichigo tried to explain to her. His peaceful sister could be an outright demon if she was kept away from the kitchen and cooking for too long, and not having any food or pans or spoons would certainly make her sour.

She looked puzzled for a moment, trying to decipher his words as if they were said in another language. Her eyes darted to the counter and back to her brother. Finally, she said in a confused voice, “what are you talking about? There’s plenty of food.”

Ichigo turned around to confirm her words and sure enough there was an array of food on the surfaces and in the cabinets. He rubbed his eyes and picked up an apple, felt it’s hard, real surface and it’s reflection of the light in the kitchen; it was definitely a real apple.

“I could’ve _sworn_ there was nothing there when I walked in,” he tried to explain.

“Maybe you were just thinking there wasn’t any food since you’re so hungry? You did sleep for nearly two days, I wouldn’t blame you for being loopy,” Yuzu provided. She reached into a box on a shelf and replaced the apple with a granola bar. “Eat this before you go too far away. Dad always said that hungry people see things differently.”

Ichigo took the bar and the advice and patted his sister on the head. She was usually right about these kinds of things - food and taking care of himself - so he would trust her on that. He could tell there was someone outside the house and said a quick goodbye then left.

It was sunny out, but the kind of sun that mid October brings, where there is no heat behind it and there is less energy from it. A wind blew in his face, kicking up leaves and forcing his eyes shut until he could step out of it. Ichigo shivered. He should have worn a thicker sweater. 

The human followed his senses to whatever person was waiting for him. He was standing at the sidewalk, impatiently tapping his feet, wearing a white, fur lined jacket zipped to cover his neck and a skull cap that covered the tops of his ears. If not for his demeanor and annoyed huffs, Ichigo would have passed him off as someone from the neighborhood waiting for the bus.

The mystery man stopped his movements and turned his head to glance behind him. Sky blue eyes with green smudges on the lower lids looked at him with an emotion he did not know how to place. The man cracked a smile, a genuine happy grin, and walked towards the confused Ichigo. His face was angular and strong, looking like it was carved from stone. The black fur of his clothing puffed out to tickle his chin and Ichigo got the irrational urge to stick his hands into the collar and feel heated skin along with fluffy texture. The last thing the soul reaper noticed was blue hair; it stuck out of the hat in the front like a rooster tail and drew the identity of the man from his memories. 

Rumbling voice. Spiritually aware. Hunts hollows. Blue hair.

“Grimmjow?” Ichigo asked tentatively.

“Who the hell else would I be?” The arrancar’s smile widened, revealing sharp teeth that made Ichigo’s heart flip for some reason. Before he could stop him, Grimmjow had grabbed his hand and was tugging him down the road. “Let’s go, you already made me wait a minute and I don’t want to lose that trail.”

Ichigo felt like he had been dunked in lava and rolled in ice. _When had he and Grimmjow become friends? And close enough to just grab each other? What the fuck was going on?_

“Hey wait wait when did we get like this?” Ichigo questioned. He could not stop walking because of how purposeful Grimmjow moved and the strong grip on his hand. Any information would have to be gathered while on the move it seemed.

Grimmjow did not look at the soul reaper behind him when he responded, but Ichigo could hear his grin in his words. “You tackled me in the woods. We fought, continued to fight, and it was fun. It was a draw, not that I didn’t fight like hell though. So we face off in other ways. I thought we would be… friends? I guess that’s the word. But something about you makes me want to hunt. Makes me want to go into Hueco Mundo and build my own castle. Makes me want… you.” He glanced back to the man he confessed to, caressing his fingers lightly within his hold, a faint blush staining his cheeks.

Ichigo’s heart flipped again. He was definitely losing his mind, or his heart, or something like that. There was nothing he could remember about hanging out with the rogue arrancar, or developing feelings and wanting to run away and run to and run his hands over him. When did this happen to him?

He felt overwhelmed but extremely content. Like this was all he could have hoped for and also his worst nightmare. 

More questions swam in his brain but he could not voice them fast enough. He struggled with whether to ask “are we on a date?” or “are you sure I’m the right person?” So, he settled for saying nothing at all and just observing how the rest of the interaction went.

“So, uh,” Ichigo intelligently said when they stood just inside the woods, “what’s up with this hollow?”

Grimmjow pulled his hand so Ichigo could stand beside him, keeping their fingers intertwined so there was no doubt about if they were holding hands or just conveniently being pulled around. His face was serious as he studied a footprint in the exposed dirt. “It looks like a vasto lorde now that I can see its prints. I thought it was an arrancar before, but this fucker is definitely strong.” He sniffed the air like a dog starting a hunt then looked up the trail. “It’s still here, hanging around, probably stealing all my prey. We gotta send it off or kill it, that’s the deal we have with Soul Society: we take care of the overpowered beasts and they let me stay here without trouble. And they leave you alone too.”

Ichigo was stunned at how adept the arrancar was at this. He was also surprised that he agreed to such a deal, it sounded like he had a job, or was forced to do work to stay alive. It reminded him of what Aizen did to his espada; they either worked for him or got fed to the other espada who did. Add that to the list of things to change about Soul Society.

“What do we do when we find it? I can sense the spiritual pressure from here and it feels angry,” Ichigo inquired. He was not the best at planning, but he was good at sticking to a plan. He did not want to face off with a raging menos without at least some information.

Grimmjow shrugged. “We’ll show up, kick its ass, then go home and relax.”

No way it would be that simple. Ichigo knew it would not be. But the way the arrancar said it, he wanted to believe it could be. Experience told him he would probably end up bruised and bleeding, yet he was convinced by the other’s words that he probably could handle it. He would survive, they both would, and they would smile about it.

Oh, now he understood why he might have started to like the man.

“Alright, let's do this!” Ichigo chuckled. It was reckless, dumb, silly to fight side by side with his sorta-friend to send off a threat. He had done that same thing several times against the very same man he was holding hands with; fighting and yelling and scaring him off so his friends would be safe. Funny how things changed.

They stalked between the trees, extending their senses so they could keep aware of the hollow. If it moved south, they changed course to follow, and if it jumped up a cliff, they found a way to climb up. It was agile if their tracking was correct. It could walk to a tree and reach the top branch in one leap, and maneuver over boulders and fallen logs like they were pebbles and sticks. They would need to corner it where it could not run away if they were to stand any chance.

When the duo was only a few meters away, Ichigo used his substitute reaper badge to step out of his body. He could not fight in his human body without running the risk of serious injuries, even with his fullbring. 

He dropped his body onto a pile of leaves against a tree and left his phone with it. If they got lost, Grimmjow could call the phone and they could find their way back. Hopefully they would not get lost.

They forged ahead towards a cave where the beast was hiding. 

The closer they got, the more tense they became. The spiritual pressure felt off, like it was being masked by something. Ichigo could not tell what about it was covered up, the signature or the power, but something was being suppressed. Grimmjow signalled to break apart and Ichigo nodded, still unsettled by the reiatsu but wanting to get the hunt over with.

The shinigami hid behind a tree in front of the cave and the arrancar circled around to scare the hollow out of its shelter. A cero shot through the earth was enough for it to screech and crawl out of the cave. Ichigo was stunned when he saw the creature.

It looked like a dog. A feral dog mad with disease and hunger, but one nonetheless. Its white plating was more like patches of mange and its brown and red colors traced down its back like runs of mud and blood. He felt bad for it. This hollow was definitely strong but it did not have the human level intelligence of most vasto lordes. Ichigo’s blood went cold when it swiveled its head toward him. He saw gold irises in pools of black, then he blinked and they were a wild green in white. 

_What the hell had he just seen?_

Before any further thoughts or self evaluation could be conducted, Grimmjow roared and jumped on the hollow. His sword pierced the plating like a spoon through jello and then hollow slumped to the ground. The arrancar jumped up and slashed his sword through it again. The vasto lorde was dead in seconds. For some reason, that did not settle Ichigo’s nerves. 

Grimmjow swiped his blade, flinging the blood from it, then sheathed it. The move was practiced, perfect, and looked like it was taken out of an action film after the main character cuts off the head of the big bad. It looked cool except for the corpse at his feet.

“Thanks for the distraction. If it had run off we would’ve had to destroy the forest to kill it,” Grimmjow thanked him. Which was odd, because Grimmjow never thanked anyone, least of all someone who did not so much as draw their blade during a battle.

“Uh, yeah sure, don’t mention it,” Ichigo mumbled in response. 

Something about this situation felt off. The trail was too long, the hollow too easy to kill, and Grimmjow too gruntled. It was nothing like his past experiences with the blue haired arrancar. Which left him feeling a mix of unsettled and glad. He did not have to fight for his life or his friends’ lives against the man, which made him happy, but he also did not have to fight at all around him.

Grimmjow did not notice his emotional turmoil. He crossed the distance from the slowly disappearing hollow (being absorbed as a reiatsu meal by the arrancar), and smirked at Ichigo.

“Time to relax now, right?” He said, taking off his hat and soothing his hair out to its normal disarray.

Ichigo knew there was something implied there, but he could not figure out what. Between his racing nerves and jumping thoughts, he did not notice how fast his heart was beating or how his breath came a little quicker with every step closer the other man came. He did not even realize when his back touched against the trunk of a tree and he could flee no further.

Grimmjow’s stare held something predatory. It was purposeful, selective, pinning him down as the object of his focus. It made Ichigo’s face flush and his hands clench and heat gather in his chest.

A hand touched his cheek, calloused and soft against his skin. A thumb rolled over his face, caressing the skin, and lightly traced his bottom lip. Ichigo felt like he was on fire. This was too intimate, too personal, his brain was jumbled up and all of his senses were going off. Warm breath was his only warning before their lips touched.

It was too much. His mind blanked and he could only feel the press of the kiss and how delicately the hand cradled his face. He wanted to yell and fight because he felt so tender, so raw, so _known_ in that one touch.

Without his command, Ichigo’s hands fisted themselves in blue hair. He felt a tongue brush against his bottom lip, where the thumb had been only moments earlier, and he opened his mouth. The kiss turned wet, adding taste to touch, and it drove him wild. His hands pulled, wanting more. He wanted more. More of this sensation, this heat, this feeling of being consumed by another. No one had made him feel like this before, like something holy and worshipped. All it took was one kiss for him to realize he wanted that feeling all the time. 

Ichigo Kurosaki wanted to feel wanted. 

The two parted, gasping for air and still holding onto each other. Ichigo looked dazed, his lips glistening from spit and red from the action to make them so. His thoughts consisted only of skin and flesh and where he wanted lips to go on him.

Grimmjow surveyed the human’s features, and smiled. He spoke softly, reverently, like too much noise would cause the universe to collapse around them: “You’d like it a lot more if you were awake.”

The kiss-drunk feeling clouding his mind evaporated. _What?_

An alarm sounded from beside his head and Ichigo woke up. His heart was pounding and his skin was damp with sweat. Ichigo turned off his phone without glancing at it, not caring who was calling or why. 

“Did I just have a dream about making out with… Grimmjow?” He asked to his empty room. Then another thought struck him, “do I _like_ Grimmjow?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clarify, yes it was all a dream. I take no shame in being an absolute ass of a writer by doing that.


	6. The Talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ichigo had fucked up. He could not control his hollow like he thought and after being caught by his sister he was forced to face the consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to get out. I've been dealing with a lot of things this past week (summer class, research internship, mental health, etc.) but I have emerged with a solid direction for the story.  
> We are getting into the more angsty section!! I hope my time away has prepared you for the shift in mood because I sure was not prepared for it when I started this story.

Ichigo stood in the spray of the shower, ignoring his shivering as he turned the water colder. His orange hair hung in his eyes and over his ears but he could not stop seeing and hearing _him_.

Grimmjow.

It was just a dream but the thoughts would not leave him no matter what he tried. The press of warm hands to his face, hot breath across his lips, cerulean eyes staring at him like a predator, their impressions remained on his skin and mind. If he closed his eyes it was like he had never woken up. If he tuned out the water falling onto him he could hear the rich purring tone of Grimmjow’s voice.

He shut off the shower. Washing away his dream was not working and it seemed he would only catch a cold from remaining in the icy water. Wrapping his towel around his waist, he made his way back to his room.

There were voices coming from the living room downstairs but he could not make out what anyone was saying. His dad was talking to someone, getting more and more worked up as the conversation progressed, and Karin cut him off several times. Ichigo knew he would need to go downstairs and he would doubtlessly be roped into whatever serious conversation was going on. He could only hope it had nothing to do with Soul Society and them wanting him to correct yet another of their past mistakes. He did not have high hopes.

After drying off, Ichigo was reminded of his dream once more when he opened his closet and was faced with a blue shirt and tan sweater. It would be weird to wear that, right? Picking his clothes based on a dream would be entirely too ominous for him. He did like the outfit… but no it would be too weird. Instead, he pulled on an old white shirt with a stretched out collar and a plain black hoodie. Acid washed blue skinny jeans pulled the look together so he looked like a typical young adult instead of a soul reaper going through a crisis of conscious.

His feet padded down the stairs in a rhythm deliberately different from his usual. Nothing from the dream would be repeated and eventually it would fade away, at least that was Ichigo’s logic. When he reached the bottom step, he sensed it: rising reiryoku. It was at least captain level, but he could not recall whose it was (he kicked himself again for not being better at that stuff).

“Speak of the devil…” Karin said. She stepped into view and shot him a Look that held no sympathy. “We’ve been waiting since you woke up. Why do you take such long showers?”

Ichigo shrugged and ruffled his sister's hair much to her discontent. She was tense around him.

“Sorry sis, I had some things on my mind,” apologized Ichigo. One of his intuitions had proved correct: the people in his house were talking about him and waiting for him. Sighing, he walked past Karin and toward whoever was throwing out high-level reiatsu. “I hope it’s not Soul Society wanting me to risk my life and death again. We’ve done that a few too many times.”

“Don’t count on it.”

Ichigo’s head shot up at the voice. Sitting in a chair across from his father at the table was someone Ichigo had hoped to not see for at least a few months more. Blonde hair, wild haircut, bangs slanting too much to one side, and thin lips pulled into a smile showing teeth. Yes, Ichigo knew exactly who this was and why he was there.

“Shinji! It’s been awhile,” he tried for a conversational tone of voice. The visored leader did not seem to appreciate his attempt at casualty. “Ah, well, what do you want from me?”

The blonde settled in his chair and sipped a cup of coffee. His eyes did not leave Ichigo and his smile somehow did not waver even as he swallowed his drink. Only the tilt of his head gave away his emotion, disappointment and guilt began to swarm in the human’s chest at it.

“You and I both know why I’m here,” Shinji coolly said, “you tried to control him, failed, and your family was the one to call me instead of you. The situation has gotten out of control.”

Ichigo did not move. He did not want to. If he sat down it he would be in for a long talk with his old man and the former-current captain. If he walked away he would need to return at a future time and the situation would only worsen. He had no choice, which was a familiar feeling when dealing with Soul Society.

Isshin motioned to a seat next to himself and Ichigo took the cue. The chair wobbled when he sat in it, one leg was too short and they could never find the right height to adjust it to. The substitute soul reaper wore a facade of indifference, trying to remain calm when he could sense the increasing tension and pressure in the room. He was about to be told something he would hate. Probably something to do with his friends in the spirit would. Definitely something that would risk his life to a greater extent than he was willing.

“Captain Kyouraku has ordered all Visored to go in hiding until we can rein in our hollows.” The air left Ichigo’s lungs like a wave had crashed into him. It was not a direct call to action. “And he said you should come with us. We’re going to Hueco Mundo, where hollows can be free to terrorize and not risk harm to soul reapers. Lady Harribel has already given her approval and we’re leaving as soon as you’re ready.”

“I didn’t agree to you takin my boy anywhere,” Isshin cut in before the man could say anything else. “Last time, I was pretty clear that he would be left out of anything else Soul Society got caught up in. You agreed. We shook on it. He does not get to go on any more life-threatening quests for you-”

“Dad!” Ichigo shouted, “it’s not up to you! I might be a human but as long as I have my powers I can still be an asset to them. I can also be a threat. I didn’t want to tell you this but… Getsu has been taking over and going out at night. He can’t be controlled, not like how I thought we agreed, and that makes me dangerous- Us dangerous. The Visored are going through these issues too. I thought I could solve this before it became an issue and I was wrong. I fucked up.”

The table was quiet. Ichigo’s confession hung in the air like a warning sign on a car display. They knew they needed to do something to fix the problem but they did not know what or where to begin. Actually, they knew the first step, but they did not want to do it.

Ichigo sighed and stood up, letting his wobbly chair tilt and scrape against the floor. “I’ll go pack my bag,” he said somberly. There was once again no choice; he needed to go away. Away from his family and away from his friends and away from whatever Getsu was breaking out for. “There’s nothing to argue about. I’m an adult and I’m making a choice right now.”

Isshin moved to follow his son, then sat back down. It did not matter what he said; Ichigo had decided for himself what to do. He had to be the dad he never was before, had to stop hiding his son and hiding the truth and just trust that the boy would come home. 

“Don’t stay away for too long. You have to go to college some time,” joked Isshin. He smiled but it did not reach his eyes. 

Ichigo knew he was trying too hard to act okay with the situation. In the past, they did not discuss his soul reaper business or how long Ichigo was away for it or even if he would return home. Maybe his old man was trying to make up for all the years of lying, or he was pulling out one last effort to control Ichigo.

The younger man shook his head. He would not be led around like a dog on a leash, waiting for the command to attack or retreat. The war was over. From here on, he would decide his path, even if it took him away from the family he fought to protect. “I’ll be back when I’m ready. College can wait another year.”

It took Ichigo less than an hour to pack. Since he was going somewhere without his body, he did not need clothes, like when he trained for his Final Getsuga Tenshou. His reiryoku would repair any damages to his clothes given time, and the sands of Hueco Mundo were soft enough to sleep on as long as there was shelter. He had little to bring with him in terms of physical comforts besides his english literature books - which he needed to have so he would not grow restless - and a pillow so his neck would not get stiff.

Shinji was waiting for him when he came downstairs. Kon sat on the counter looking excited but also scared. The mod soul enjoyed the freedom he was granted when he was in Ichigo’s body but… he knew it was always conditional. If Ichigo did not return, he would live the rest of the body’s life as if it were his own, and that scared him like nothing else. Being in control and able to manipulate someone else’s life was too much to carry forever.

“Don’t do anything dumb with my body. I don’t want to break up with half a dozen girls when I get back,” Ichigo said pointedly to the stuffed animal. Kon nodded his felt head and stood up, ready to be violated so his soul can be removed. A squeeze, a pop, and a gulp later and Ichigo was standing next to himself with two swords on his person. “Thanks Kon. Look after my sisters while I’m gone. And punch my dad in the throat if he tries to guilt you into applying for universities.”

The mod soul saluted and nodded stiffly, then walked up stairs. 

Yuzu was out shopping in the morning market so she could not see her brother off, but Karin promised to comfort her when she came home. Sibling love was always their strongest trait. 

Isshin did not say goodbye outright but he did give a stern look to Shinji and flashed a grin to his son. That was how they were; father and son, soul reapers, beings sworn to protect others. The older man would protect his children and Ichigo would protect everyone else, including himself.

A garganta ripped the air apart in front of his house. Inside, Harribel stood watching with an impassive face as the two shinigami stepped through. The last thing Ichigo saw before the passage between his world and hers was a spot of blue sitting on his roof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter updates will be moved to every three days. This gives me better time to write and edit and hopefully will lessen the stress as my life picks up again.


	7. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ichigo is shown his quarters in Las Noches and is surprised to find it decorated with many many cats. Just what kind of person would be okay with so many beanie baby and stuffed animal cats?  
> To add to his stress, Shinji shares his master plan for getting the hollows to not take control of their bodies anymore. Ichigo is... not amused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is late at night but by god I am posting this chapter when I promised myself I would. It's longer than usual and more than I expected to write. I went into a deep hypnotic state and when I snapped out this was written.

“These will be your quarters for your stay. Please, do not break anything, the items are from a personal collection that I do not have permission to use,” Harribel explained to Ichigo. The duo was standing before a door leading to an apartment-esque area. Everything was white, as is the norm with Las Noches, except for the objects decorating the walls and shelves and floor of the room. Those were in different arrays of color with most being a deep brown. 

Ichigo inspected one of the objects. It’s texture was soft and worn, seams fraying from years of love and abuse. “Why is it... a cat?” he bravely questioned.

The blonde arrancar hid a smile behind the collar of her jacket. She controlled her mirth in her response, but it was still evident from her words, “because he liked cats. Hollows would eat any that were alive here, so these were a compromise.” 

Putting the stuffed animal back in its place, Ichigo faced Harribel. “Was this someone’s room?”

“Yes,” Harribel paused, weighing the benefits of coming clean over the fight that would surely ensue her revealing information, “he used this space. Before Yhwach raided Hueco Mundo, he lived here with me and the other surviving arrancars. He left when the war ended.”

There was something in the glance she was giving Ichigo. It made him think he was being played along, like he was silly for not already catching on. But even with all two brain cells working together, Ichigo could not think of who Harribel was talking about. He shrugged and indicated for her to elaborate. 

Harribel shook her head and sighed. Ichigo could practically hear her thoughts asking him how he managed to defeat the mastermind that conquered her domain when Ichigo had no critical thinking skills. “You’ll figure it out eventually.” She walked a few paces down the hall then waited a moment and said over her shoulder, “meals are whatever you find or cook. Eat in your space or the common hall, it does not matter to me, but clean up after yourself.” With that last advice, the former espada left the hall.

“‘Whatever I can find’? Is that permission for me to scavenge?” Ichigo muttered to himself. Hollows confused him in many ways and it seemed like arrancar were no easier to understand.

Before Ichigo could shut the door and find a place to unpack his books, someone called his name. Ichigo tried to shut the door before the person could reach him but he was too slow. The door nearly ripped from its hinges by the force exerted on it.

“Dumbass, don’t shut the door when I’m still talking to you!” A hand grabbed Ichigo by the front of his shihakusho while another landed in his gut forcing the air out of him in a solid burst. “When I say your name, you shut up and wait for me. Got it?”

Ichigo wheezed and spat a curse. “Long time no see, Hiyori,” he breathed. 

She moved to punch him again but was stopped by Love grasping her wrist. The other fist was quickly apprehended as well when Hiyori failed to land a blow to Love’s face. “There's no need to beat up Ichigo quite yet,” he cooly said even as the angry girl writhed and yelled. Without waiting for an invite, the tall man strode into Ichigo’s newly acquired place, towing Hiyori with him to sit on a couch in the den area. 

Once more, Ichigo made to close the door but was unable to. This time, it was because a large foot was blocking it. Ichigo sighed and opened it again. He knew exactly who the shoe belonged to, and no doubt who else was out there. 

“I guess we’re having a Visored party in my place. Come on in,” the quickly exasperated Ichigo said. 

Hachigen smiled and continued toward the den. The other five followed after him with merely a nod each in greeting. When everyone was seated in the chairs and couches around the room, Ichigo chose his own spot - between Shinji and Rose - and waited. He hardly had to wait long as he knew from the past that his fellow hollowfied reapers loved to explain everything in detail (except for when they were about to hurt him or force him to hollowfy). No one spoke.

“So,” Ichigo began, “why the hell are you in my… flat? House? Apartment?” 

“It’s like you said, we’re having a party,” Shinji replied calmly. Ichigo stared at him, clearly not buying the explanation. “Okay fine. We have to talk about our plan. Kyouraku ordered us out since we were destroying our barracks. Previous arrangements with Lady Harribel allowed us to come here but... We can’t stay here forever and half of us have divisions to get back to anyway.”

“Why can’t we stay?” Hiyori butted in, “I’ve been here since Hal took over and it's nice enough. Plenty of room to roam.” She said it like she was stating facts about a new amusement park. And maybe it was Ichigo’s imagination, but it almost seemed like there was some respect in her reference to the arrancar.

Kinsei scoffed, “of course you’re fine with being in a hollow world. The rest of us have work that we can’t run away from, unlike you. Shuhei is working his ass off to run my division and get it rebuilt. I can’t let him do my work forever.” His face was scrunched and his eyes hardened. Snapping at his friend was not what Ichigo expected from the mature captain.

“Yeah, and since I’m here, he doesn't even get help,” Mashiro wailed. Her lieutenant badge sat proudly on her arm even while she fiddled with it. “And I feel so bad since I’m the one who trashed the office and messed up the printers” Kinsei pulled the fidgeting girl to him, holding her like a father consoling a daughter after her first break up.

“Don’t let your guilt linger too long. We all had trouble with our hollows. I was lucky Izuru was around to restrain me before I did the unspeakable to my precious guitar,” Rose said. 

Jumping in before the others could espouse their laments and gloss over something about arrancar making deals with shinigami, Ichigo said, “So what is the plan?”

Shinji smiled at the questioning man. For some reason the grin set off his nerves. “We’re going to give our hollows control.”

“That is a horrible idea,” Hiyori blurted out.

“It is not!” The fifth division captain snapped back. “We thought we had our hollows under control, but clearly we don’t or we wouldn’t be here. Subjugating them isn’t working and killing them isn’t an option. So why not try letting them out? In this world, they can’t hurt anything that isn’t already an enemy.”

“If we can stay aware of what they do when they’re out, we can find out why they’re coming out in the first place,” Love chipped in.

Ichigo considered the proposed plan. It was simple enough and safe enough that he had no qualms. The only issue he could see was getting control back. He and Getsu had a tedious relationship that rested on Ichigo being the master and him the servant. If he suddenly changed their roles (not switched, he would never be okay with acting as a servant) then Getsu might do something drastic that he did not approve of. 

But… that was the point, was it not? Losing control in a controlled manner, narrowing down why his hollow was suddenly being a dick and breaking promises, that’s what the plan was.

“Alright. I’ll try it,” Ichigo said.

The Visored around him looked at Ichigo with surprise and agreement. They all gave their own ascent to the plan and waited for Shinji to give more detail.

“Why are you looking at me?” the blond asked.

Hiyori hit his head with a sandal. “Explain it, dumbass! How are we supposed to let our hollow out without completely hollowfying?”

“I was hoping our mutt would do that,” the captain smiled and glanced at Ichigo.

Ichigo turned around, searching for a dog behind him but found nothing. Turning back, he was hit by the meaning. “Hey! I’m not a mutt!”

Giggling, Mashiro spoke, “Sure you are. You’re a mix of quincy, hollow, human, and soul reaper. You’re more mutty than a Golden Doodle.” Lisa and Rose cracked a smile at her comment. Ichigo was not amused.

“Yeah sure but I’m not a dog so don’t call me one.” No one consented. Apparently, they all thought of him as a weird soul mix. “Oh screw you guys.”

“He can’t help that his parents were monsters,” a voice said from over his shoulder.

Ichigo spun around in his chair, suddenly aware of the woman standing there. His face split in a smile and he was enveloped in a hug involving way too much boob.

“Nel!” Ichigo exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

The green haired arrancar laughed. “Hal said you were staying in Las Noches so I came as soon as possible.”

“Where have you been? I thought you were dead since I didn’t see you after Yhwach died.”

Nel straightened her back and proudly pointed to her clothes. How Ichigo had missed it, he did not know. She was wearing the traditional black shihakusho of a soul reaper. Her zanpakuto was strapped to her waist and draped around her shoulders was a familiar silk scarf. 

“I was still in soul society after helping Kisuke, Grimmjow, and the Shihoins get to the medical bay. The captain commander saw me and invited me to stay. After Rukia introduced me, Captain Kuchiki requested I join his squad. Now I’m working with the sixth division,” she excitedly told him. 

Ichigo was bowled over by her story. First off, she was alive and no one had told him. Second, she was the one to save Grimmjow and the others. Third, she had been invited to be a soul reaper (if that’s how it worked?). Lastly, she was working with Byakuya. It was enough to make him question everything about the world.

“Did no one let you know?” Nel questioned.

“NO! I haven’t seen anyone since going back to Karakura!” Ichigo shouted. He looked at the various ranked soul reapers around him. They all shamefully looked down, except for Hachigen who was shaking his head like he expected that reaction. “None of you thought that was worth mentioning? An arrancar in Soul Society?!”

“To be fair, I’m not the only one,” Nel chimed in. Ichigo nearly gave himself whiplash from how fast he turned his neck to stare at his friend dumbfounded. “Hal took over Las Noches after making a deal with squad seven that lets them stay here for training. They aren’t here right now since it's their turn to protect the west rukongai along with squad ten. Charlotte is in squad eleven and gets into fights with Yumichika but she’s doing fine there; they were very accepting of her transition and pronouns once she fought her way to fifth seat. And Pesche and Dondochakka are working with me. We tried to get Grimmjow to join a squad but he was really pissy and said he was fine on his own.”

Ichigo snorted a laugh. “I saw him a while back. He’s living in the woods outside Karakura, picking off hollows drawn in by my reiatsu, I think.”

For some reason, Nel seemed disappointed that was all he had to say. He also felt disappointed he had nothing more to share. Ichigo knew what he said was the truth but a voice in his head said he had more he could say. He did not give the voice attention. 

“Well that’s interesting. I’ll need to report that to squad thirteen so they don’t send someone to kill him.” 

Nel was serious when she said it, acting like a true shinigami with morals and ethics and not wanting her comrade to be killed. She had adjusted well to Soul Society. No, she had always been more like a soul reaper than a hollow. Joining a squad made sense for her.

Ichigo did not know what to say next. He wanted to ask more about why the Court Guard had changed so much but he already knew the answer. 

He had changed it. 

Every fight he had made a change in the policy, every friend he made worked to bring compassion back to the shinigami, every encouragement reformed the Court and made them rethink why they functioned as they did. His affiliate status as a Shiba probably also influenced the Central 46 since the noble clan had sway there even after their fall from grace.

For the first time, Ichigo felt like he accomplished something. Winning the big fight meant nothing if he could not prevent it from happening again. With the changes going on, there was a possibility of things settling down.

“Well,” Nel said, interrupting Ichigo’s self congratulatory thoughts, “it was nice seeing you, but I have to go. I didn’t exactly give my squad warning that I was leaving. I need to get back before someone notices I’m not there and assumes a new threat is around.” 

Ichigo was disappointed that she had to leave so soon after meeting up again, but he understood. Byakuya could be a hardass if rules were violated without him knowing.

“Tell Renji and Rukia to come by sometime.”

“Okay. And, you tell Grimmjow to go to Soul Society next time you see him.”

Ichigo’s stomach twisted and his smile faltered. “Sure.” 

“Oh and Hal said ‘no hollowfying inside until you all get it down’. She doesn’t want her castle turned to rubble because your hollows have no sense of where it is appropriate to fight,” the bubbly arrancar advised. With that, she fled the room.

Without Nel to distract him, Ichigo was left with the visored and their expectations and plans. 

Ichigo let out a calming breath and faced the others, ready to begin the task asked of him. Unfortunately, the others were all grouped up and whispering conspiratorially with each other. And he could have sworn he heard the phrase “bet on two weeks” but they went quiet when they realized he was watching them. 

Lisa cleared her throat and nonchalantly commented, “Can you walk us through this hollow releasing process?”

Everyone’s eyes were on Ichigo again. Why did they always have to do that? He was always getting pulled into these kinds of things. Why did none of them know how to talk to their hollow and let it out? The tension in the room grew the longer he did not respond.

“Fine. I’ll help. But only because I owe you for using you during my hollowfication training,” he huffed. 

Once again he was reminded of why he and the Visored rarely worked together. They had a tendency to expect a lot from him and give him little time to accept or complain when a plan was decided.

“If you’re ready, I’ll tell you one time how to let your hollow take control. After that, get out and let me settle into my… flat,” Ichigo said. 

Kinsei nodded. The sole gesture was enough for Ichigo.

“You have to picture your mindscape. Don’t actually go into it! Think of you existing there and open your mind up to your hollow.” Ichigo received several confused looks. “I know how it sounds. But this is how you do it. You have to find the place in your mind where you and your hollow can exist without having to fight. This is how it happened at the Soul Palace when I reforged my zanpakuto. Making a place in yourself where you can be on equal ground with your hollow…” he trailed off as their faces continued to twist in disbelief.

Hachigen broke the silence. “If we let up on our hollows even a little, they’ll tear everything down.”

“Then don’t be inside when you do it,” Ichigo said. “I told you how to let them out, it's up to you to do it. Either you let up on the controls or your hollow will find a way to come out without your permission. That’s what’s happening with all of us. It took you longer because of your years of training but your hollows found weaknesses and got out.”

The room fell quiet. It seemed Ichigo had struck a nerve. It was reasonable for the Visored to be upset by being reprimanded; Ichigo had essentially told them that their century of training was what was worthless. His development with controlling Getsu and taking his power to use as another zanpakuto made them look bad, especially since they were the ones to teach him about hollowfication in the first place.

Shinji drew in a deep breath and sighed. “Alright everyone, let’s get to it. We can’t go back to Soul Society until we get our hollows under control again so we have no other options.” 

The group agreed and got up and trickled out of the flat to their own spaces. They had to get far away from Las Noches before any of them would let out their hollows. Hiyori was last to stand, grumbling under her breath about something Ichigo could not discern. She gave him a side eye and scoffed.

“Don’t blame me when my hollow comes looking for a fight later. I already know it wants one,” she said.

Something in Ichigo quivered and before he knew it, a smirk spread across his face and his vision darkened. “I won’t blame you if you don’t blame me for losing.” 

Hiyori’s eyes widened a fraction before she huffed and left. If he did not know better, Ichigo would think she had been scared.

The door clicked shut and Ichigo was finally alone in his new residence. He let out a breath. He needed a moment to get his thoughts under control. Getsu was clawing to get out after having heard Ichigo be threatened. Despite the plan, Ichigo was not ready to lose control.

He looked at the bag containing his books and his pillow. It laid propped against a wall waiting to be put away. Grabbing the bag, Ichigo mozied further into the flat.

He had not been told where everything was and he did not know enough about arrancar physiology to know what rooms there would be. Did they even need sleep? 

Luckily for him, the first door opened up to a bedroom. There was a full bed in the corner and a bookshelf stacked with shonen manga across from it. A single window shone light into the room where it was not covered by curtains. On the floor was a plush white rug that begged to be laid on. For all its barrenness, it looked complete. 

Ichigo added his meager helping of books - various thriller and romance stories - to the shelf where there were open spaces. His books stuck out with their worn leather spines next to the glossy paperback manga. It would be easy for him to remember which were his and which were the room’s.

Moving to the bed, Ichigo was surprised to see nearly six pillows piled on it. The blanket had a pattern of large paw prints and was torn in places. It looked like claws or talons had sliced the fabric. 

“Whose room have I taken over?” The orange haired man was completely stumped on which espada could have lived in the room. Ichigo added his own pillow to the collection and sat on the bed. It was extremely soft and he nearly tumbled into its middle because of how broken in it was. If he fell into the middle, he would have to rip the bed to shreds before he could get out. 

He took a moment to gather himself once more and put his weight on the very edge of the bed, surveying the rest of the room. In the far wall was a sliding door left open a crack. It was probably a closet or storage room like the one in his room… the one Rukia lived in when she stayed at his house.

The curiosity in him was encouraging him to look inside. Maybe there was something left over inside it, the espada could not have known it was not going to return after Aizen’s battle so there must have been something in there. He knew there was no one behind the door because there was no reiatsu. Still, the chance to explore the remnants of an espada was exciting in its own way, like learning about a creature that existed only in a book he read. The closet was only a few paces away, just a couple steps from where he currently stood and he could open it. Ichigo waited only a moment more before he slid the door open. 

It was empty.

Ichigo felt himself deflate a little. He wanted to find something to reveal the identity of the espada. But it was completely cleaned. Not even a speck of dust sat on the shelving.

With nothing else to do in the room, Ichigo left the bed area and opened the only door left in the flat. To his surprise, it was a washroom. There was a shower and a bath, both of which were big enough for at least three fully grown adults. Hanging off a hook beside the shower was a fluffy looking towel. Ichigo it picked up and was affronted by the soft lavender smell coming from the towel. It was freshly clean. 

At the least, Ichigo would be able to take a shower and dry off comfortably. Ichigo let go of the very fluffy towel, promising to return later for a wash in the luxurious looking shower, and found his way back to the entry area. 

He knew he had to leave, the point of coming to Heuco Mundo was to let his hollow out, not to stay cooped up in a room filled with cat paraphernalia and super soft lavender scented towels. But, he was hesitant to leave. Once he got outside he would have to let go of the reins and even with the safeguards in place he wasn't sure if Getsu would refrain from hurting people. Ichigo's hollow was no different from other menos. Getsu was vicious, a killer that obliterated anything in his path, constantly edging Ichigo into fights. Letting him off the leash was dangerous, like how firearms and cars are dangerous. One slip up and he risked not only his own life but others as well.

His thoughts did not matter though. He had to let Getsu out. That was the plan he agreed to, and the other Visored were risking the same as him. It would not be fair to hold back. Besides, it was not in his character to break promises.

"Alright Getsu. You can have your free time, but I get to supervise and make sure you don't kill us both," Ichigo said out loud.

Opening the door, Ichigo relaxed and let himself slip from the forefront. 

He cleared his mind and pictured the skyscrapers, the blue sky and sun reflecting off the rows of glass. He imagined the heat from the metal and the whistling wind tugging on his hair. He took a deep breath and smelled the steely scent that only city air carried. When he could sense the difference in his mental state, he refocused his eyes. 

He could see the hallway again but it was like looking through a distortion. Everything was foggy and he felt far away from it. Something touched his chest, he could feel the faint pressure of it but his skin would not send all the signals. Another touch, harder this time, more like a slam. He knew what was happening. 

Getsu was testing his control. Punching himself to see if Ichigo would take over again. He was familiar with it.

"Go ahead. I'm letting you out," Ichigo encouraged. 

He heard dark chuckling. It shook his being like an earthquake but he knew it was just laughter. Ichigo knew what it was like to be trapped in his mind without sight of what his body was doing. However, being situated in the fog between reality and mindscape was uncommon. This was Getsu's usual domain, not his, he held no power in this space. He had to trust his hollow to not do anything stupid like run into a wall or pick fights or-

"I'm gonna go fight the short one," said Getsu.

Ichigo regretted agreeing to the plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before anyone comes after me, I love dogs and especially love mutts. They're the future of dogs. However, Ichigo is a spiritual mutt and I think he'd be very upset at getting called out for it.  
> Oh and Charlotte is a trans woman. I hated the manga for dressing her up as some kind of drag queen so she's living the life of a princess in squad eleven and fighting with Yumi about any and everything related to beauty. Trans women are good and I will not stand for people hating on Charlotte for being ~extra~ bc she's extra pretty.  
> \---  
> Thanks for reading and sticking around while I get myself back into a good writing space. My classes have started so i think the schedule will give me more time management and I'll be back to regular updates.


	8. The Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grimmjow has to live in a world without Zangetsu. Not because he died or anything, no way that would happen, but because the hollow went to Hueco Mundo without him. He would be content to stay on the roof of the Kurosaki clinic and household forever if Kurosaki's didn't keep sprouting up everywhere he went. Seriously, how many of those orange-haired fuckers were there?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drat, a day late. But at least I'm closing the gap between my ideal posting schedule and my actual haha *sweatdrop emoji*
> 
> warning for adult language because of Grimmjow

Grimmjow was frustrated.

He kept watch over Zangetsu the whole day and night, making sure the pretty bastard actually slept, and how was he rewarded? With a soothing hot shower and an invitation to dinner? No, of course not.

In the early morning hours, he woke up to captain level spiritual pressure entering the Kurosaki house. It was only through instinct that he had masked his own presence during his stay because if he had not he probably would have been sliced to ribbons from the newcomer.

To add insult to injury, Kurosaki woke up just a few minutes after that. Not his Zangetsu. If the orange haired man was not so damn cute (read: weak) when he was sleepy, Grimmjow would have been more upset. His dilemma came from the fact that he was in Kurosaki’s room still and had very little time to escape before being caught. Luckily, the human was too out of it to notice the arrancar hunched in a corner of his room between a hamper and a beanbag chair. As soon as it was clear, Grimmjow climbed through the window and onto the roof.

Thanks to his cat-like hearing, he was able to listen in on Kurosaki and the two captain-level reapers as they discussed his “problem”. The details were vague but it sounded as if Kurosaki did not know that he and Zangetsu were hanging out. That was… disappointing to hear. Grimmjow was confident in his feelings and wanted to make his relationship known to anyone who listened. But, it seemed Zangetsu was hiding it.

His spirit was dampened after realizing that. Even more so because Kurosaki was apparently going to Hueco Mundo, his homeland. Grimmjow wanted to take Zangetsu there, hunt down menos and rip them to shreds, explore the endless sands and forests of his world with the hollow he dared to care about. He wanted to be the one to take him there. Instead, he was made to watch from the shadows.

When the garganta opened, Harribel easily spotted him. She did nothing to indicate his presence but he knew she saw him. It was not hard, he was only on the roof, not hiding behind anything. Her thoughts rang loud and clear through the silence of her actions: “You can come too, if you’re ready.”

He was not. He left Las Noches for a reason and he was not willing to bite his pride and go back there quite yet.

As such, he was left to sit on the roof of the house. The sky was a dull blue, clouds only adding grey and gloom to it. The arrancar was content to lounge up there until he could figure out somewhere better to be. Without Zangetsu to stay there for, he had no other reason to be at the Kurosaki clinic. Hell, he had no reason to be in the human world at all.

“This is a disaster!” Grimmjow heard a familiar voice yell from Kurosaki’s room.

It must have been his imagination because there was no way the soul reaper was still- 

“He took all the good books AND the good pillow? Please tell me he didn’t take _those_ too!”

No way. That was definitely Kurosaki’s voice. But Grimmjow had just watched him step through the garganta. 

Curiosity got the best of him and he snuck his way to the ledge of the second story window. Peeking inside, he was stunned to see none other than Kurosaki with his ass up and head under the bed looking for something. The jeans he wore were truly sent from the gods because of how they sculpted his legs and butt, and Grimmjow would have happily watched that sight all day if it weren’t so completely unreasonable.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in Hueco Mundo?” Grimmjow said. 

Kurosaki screeched and hit his head on the underside of the bed. The face that greeted the arrancar was fearful and angry. Rubbing a hand over a bump on his skull, Kurosaki asked in a panicked voice, “Who the hell are you?”

What. The. Fuck.

“What do ya mean? You’ve known me for years. We fought several times. I’m your sworn rival. How do you not know me?” Grimmjow yelled. He was so not up for a game of ‘who am I?’ right now.

The orange haired man looked at him in confusion. Brown eyes wandered over his face, shirt, jacket, pants, and finally landed on Pantera. A spark of recognition flickered into his eyes and Grimmjow smirked, sure the bastard remembered him.

“You’re a soul reaper!”

Grimmjow nearly fell from the window because of his visceral reaction. “No I’m not a fucking soul reaper! I’m an arrancar and a damn powerful one at that. Quit playing games and just tell me what the hell you’re doing standing there.”

“... I’m looking for something…” Kurosaki cryptically replied. He shifted his weight from foot to foot and anxiously glanced at Grimmjow. “So are you here for revenge or is this something you do to every mod soul?”

Grimmjow was about to start firing ceros but the last words caught him off guard. To the best of his knowledge, Kurosaki was a human hybrid of some sort and Zangetsu was a hollow. Neither were a ‘mod soul’ and, despite their small differences, they were the only ones to look like the guy in front of him.

It was too much to think about while sitting on the ledge of a window. 

Not caring for the strange look and startled cry the Kurosaki-looking person made, Grimmjow climbed into the room. Nothing had changed in the hour he was out of it but he still had to double check his position before sitting in the bean bag chair. He shifted Pantera so it laid across his lap, which had the effect of scaring the man staring at him.

“How many Kurosaki’s are there?” Grimmjow questioned. He meant it as a simple request for knowledge but his gruff, agitated voice made it sound harsher.

The man held up his hand and ticked off fingers as he said names. “Well there’s Karin, Yuzu, Ichigo, and Isshin. If you count dead people then there’s also Masaki. And if you want extended family there’s the Shibas but I don’t know how many th-”

Grimmjow held up his hand stopping the babbling. “I mean, how many of _you_ are there? I’ve seen fuckin three of you already and that’s two too many.”

Realization struck the man and his eyes widened comically. For a moment, he looked to be struggling not to laugh. “You think _I’m_ Ichigo?! Oh man that is hilarious. No, I’m Kon.”

“The fuck is so funny about it? You look exactly like him except for being so pathetic!” Grimmjow retorted. Being laughed at was not something Grimmjow tolerated, especially not when the person laughing was some freak who looked like Kurosaki.

Kon composed himself and sat on the floor in front of Grimmjow. It appeared he was no longer afraid of the arrancar. Laughing at someone’s expense and not getting beat to a pulp might have had a calming effect. He spoke evenly but a lopsided smile still decorated his face, it made him look soft, “I’m not actually another person in the way you think; I’m a botched experimental soul candy that gained sentience and personality. If not for Ichigo, I would have been crushed and never able to experience the world again. When he needs to step out of his body, he uses me. I live his life and make sure his body stays healthy so he doesn’t actually die… So, I look like Ichigo because this is his body.”

As confusing as Kon made it sound, Grimmjow understood. The orange haired human-bodied man in front of him was not his Kurosaki. Well not _his_ , just not the one he was familiar with. Not Kurosaki. And also not Zangetsu. Why was this so fucky?

Grimmjow scratched the skin around his mask, an itch born from old discomfort, and waited for Kon to say more. The other man was silent. He was waiting for something, but what? Grimmjow had his questions satisfied, was chilling, not threatening him so there was nothing to wait for. They had been introduced, what more was there to go over except names and-

He forgot to say who he was.

“I’m Grimmjow. Thought you would’ve known me since Kurosaki and I fought and all that…” he hurriedly said. There was no reason to be embarrassed about expecting his rival to have told everyone about him, he could not have known Kurosaki did not tell body-sitter.

Kon’s mouth dropped open and his eyes widened comically. It was like someone had just shocked him with four million volts. As quickly as it happened, he snapped out of it. 

“You’re THE Grimmjow?” he nearly screamed. 

That was the kind of reaction the sexta had expected. _The_ Grimmjow. A well known name with history and titles behind it. “Yeah. So you have heard about me?”

“Ichigo mentioned you after the Winter War. He said you were a skilled opponent that he wanted to fight again,” Kon explained. He looked Grimmjow up and down once more, making the arrancar feel like some kind of display item, then smirked. “He didn’t say that you were so delicious looking though. Strong, tactical, ambitious but he forgot to share that you’re a snack.”

O-oh. Grimmjow went red and snarled at the man. He was not anyone’s food, and if he was, he was a damn full course meal not a measly snack. 

Still, the intention behind those words was undeniable. Seeing the look of interest on Kurosaki’s face was unnerving and yet… he could not stop his thoughts about those lips and how Zangetsu had used them before. Grimmjow liked that body, but only when Zangetsu was in it, at least he thought he did.

He did not have the mental capacity to deal with these thoughts right now. He was only into Zangetsu, not any other lookalikes.

“He said I was… strong? He wanted to fight me again?” Grimmjow said. He wanted to change the topic back to something he could handle. Something that did not give him conflicting thoughts about his rival.

Kon’s smirk dropped. He took the hint and backed down. “I mean, he didn’t say anything super praising, but he said you were fun to fight. He called you respectful. His other enemies were all dicks to him because they’d use cheap tactics. When he talked about beating Yhwach he always said it was a rude fight, like he only won because he had several people working with him at the same time. That old quincy fought dirty. But you? You gave a good and clean fight and he liked that.” Each word he said was like a stroke to Grimmjow's… ego. He had liked fighting Ichigo. The soul reaper understood what a fight meant and did not hold back on him. If he could, he’d fight him every day.

Kon noticed the effect his words had on the arrancar. Grimmjow was more alert and his reiatsu curled around him like a cloak waiting to be ripped free. He was ready for a fight. Which would be an issue since Kurosaki was not in Karakura or this world at the moment. 

“If you want to, you can go see him in Hueco Mundo. I know he’s supposed to be letting his hollow have control but it’d probably do him good to fight someone like you instead of those Visored,” he suggested. Reasonably, if hollows like fighting then Grimmjow and the hollow would be a great battle.

Of course, Grimmjow knew that already. He and Zangetsu had fought, made friends, flirted, and felt each other in intimate ways. But he could not go back to the sandy planes of his homeland. Not yet.

“I know. I’m staying,” Grimmjow sighed.

“Why? Ichigo isn’t here and I sure don’t want to fight you.”

“Just don’t want to go chasing after someone who couldn’t be bothered to tell people about me,” he growled. “And I wouldn’t fight a wimp like you. I said I’m not going so I’m not going, got it?”

Kon held up his hands in surrender, he did not want to tangle with the feisty soldier. Still there was an issue that was brought up.

“Where are you going to sleep? If not in Hueco Mundo then…”

Grimmjow cocked his head. He did not realize there was a question about his sleeping situation. “I’ve been prowling the woods, so I’ll be there. Don’t get yourself worried about me. I’m a top predator out there and don’t need anything else.”

While his attitude was harsh, Kon did not seem phased by it. Instead he gave the arrancar another of those soft smiles that twisted his heart. “It’s cold and dirty outside. I don’t think Ichigo would want you out there. And even if he did, he’s not here right now.”

“What are you saying?” Grimmjow tentatively asked.

Kon stood up, stretching his arms behind his head. He leisurely strolled to his closet and pulled out an old futon. “I’m saying, stay here. I know what it’s like living in the streets and I’m not going to sit by doing nothing when I could help. As long as you’re respectful, don’t eat Yuzu’s special cupcakes, and stay away from Isshin you should be-”

“No,” Grimmjow gruffly said and got up. “I don’t take pity from anyone and I ain’t accepting any handouts you give. I’m fine on my own.”

He did not wait for any other response before heading to the window once again. Jumping out, he landed on the grass below with less impact than a feather. He started strolling away toward the forest when he heard Kon shout at him.

“It’s a standing invitation! If it gets too cold, or you want a hot meal, or you need a proper shower just come in!” Kurosaki’s voice said. If Grimmjow had not known better, he would have been fooled into thinking it was him. Even knowing it was the mod soul and not his rival, he could not hold any anger at the offer. Something in his words sounded genuine. He did not look back or acknowledge the call in any way.

Grimmjow was determined to not accept anyone’s pity for him. He was strong, stronger than anyone around him. He could live in the woods on his own, hunting menos and keeping his blade sharp. He did not need amenities or bean bag chairs or amicable orange-haired people.

Three weeks later, it snowed. 

Despite his mental fortitude and personal commitment to the cause, Grimmjow could not stand the cold. He cursed his luck and swallowed his pride as he trudged up the street to the clinic. 

His fingers felt numb even when he shoved them up his sleeves, and his abdomen cramped from the chill. If he had thought about the weather more seriously, he would have switched out his crop jacket for a fur lined coat. But he had not. And now he stood at the entrance to the Kurosaki house with an angry snarl and chattering teeth.

He did not have to knock. A girl, probably high school age, opened the door and nearly jumped back. Her dark grey eyes and black hair did not seem like a Kurosaki image to him but that fierce face and spiritual pressure told him the girl was definitely related. Without waiting for her to tell him off, Grimmjow shoved his way into the home. She squawked in protest of his brash behaviour and attempted to grab him. He easily avoided her attack. 

“Karin shut the door! Don’t let the hot air outsi-” the man cut himself off as he realized there was someone else in the house.

“I’m here for a hot meal and bath,” Grimmjow mumbled. His face was rosy pink from the cold as well as shame. “If you’re still offering.”

Kon snorted and motioned for the black haired girl, Karin, to back off. Ignoring the glare and aura of danger, the mod soul threw his arm around Grimmjow’s shoulders and guided him further into the house. “You’re lucky I know you. If anyone else had shown up on my doorstep like that I would’ve beat them and told them to stay away from here, I’ve got sisters to protect y’know?”

Grimmjow grunted. He did not buy the flattery. “Shut up. I’m doing this for me, because I’m stronger than you. You’re a weak human and not worth fighting.”

“Okay, Mr. Strong Man,” Kon mocked, “you’re in time for dinner so just sit down and warm up.”

The arrancar was not following orders when he sat down, he just wanted to rest his trembling legs. It was not a sign of failure on his part. He could beat up the dumb mod soul if he wanted. Yeah, totally.

When a black haired man walked into the room, Grimmjow almost regretted coming. They made eye contact and he had to hold back a pained grunt at the force of the spiritual pressure that came down on him. It was captain level at least, probably more since the man was still masking it somewhat. Grimmjow was screwed.

One step from him, the man stopped. Kon was shouting at him. Something about Ichigo’s friends and Soul Society and things they talked about before. At the end, Kon pleaded, “let him stay for the night. I was the one to say he could and he’s not going to harm us. I mean, look at him. Isshin, come on.”

Isshin. Kuro-Ah, Ichigo’s father, he presumed. Well, that explained the dark haired girl and the ridiculous reiatsu.

“Kon I know you’re making your own friends but…” his voice trailed off as he stared at the broken mask hanging on Grimmjow’s cheek. His eyes lingered on it, contemplating, judging, before coming to a conclusion. “Fine. Only because I know Ichigo would put me through Hell if he knew I kicked him out. If he so much as touches my girls, though, he’ll wish he stayed a menos,” Isshin said. Kon backed down and settled in his seat again.

Grimmjow received a withering stare and could only give a short nod. It was his show of agreement; he wouldn’t hurt anyone as long as he stayed in the house. Not that he would hurt them anyway, none of them were a fair fight.

Food was brought out shortly and Grimmjow met the final Kurosaki in the family: Yuzu. Though she was small and friendly, he could tell she would be a strong warrior. And he was not saying that because her chicken wonton soup was the best thing he had ever tasted. Nope, he was not biased at all.

Throughout the meal, Yuzu emphatically shared the details of her day at school, Karin pitched in witty remarks and quips, Kon talked about his new job as a barista and who he’d seen around town, and Grimmjow added in his own small stories about hollows lurking in different streets and alleys. If it wasn’t for Isshin’s intimidating stare toward the newcomer, it would have been a normal family dinner. At least, that was what Grimmjow imagined family dinners to be like. 

After the meal was done, Kon took Grimmjow upstairs and showed him where the bathroom and bedrooms were. The towel he was handed was a blue green like his estigma and had the initials ‘K. I.’ sewn into a corner. He only blushed a little when he used it to dry off, because how could he not have butterflies in his stomach when he touched the soft cotton to his skin knowing it had touched his rival’s as well.

But was Ichigo still his rival? After not seeing him for so long did he have any kind of claim to that title? 

He and Zangetsu were not rivals so that further complicated things. Meeting his folks, seeing the bonding and trust they all had in Ichigo, something his fraccion had had with him… it felt wrong to want to strike him down. And that’s just it: Grimmjow did not want to end the man’s life, he only wanted the elation of fighting. 

Was there any other way for them to settle a fight than with death, though? He, a hollow, against him, a soul reaper? They were fated to kill each other, right?

As Grimmjow fell asleep on the spare futon, surrounded with blankets and pillows and a house that smelled of Zangetsu and Ichigo and family and love, he wondered if they could ever possibly be something else.


	9. The Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ichigo has spent the past few months trapped in his own head. How could he have changed so much in so little time? How could anyone else?

Hueco Mundo is not all sand. Believe it or not, there are sprawling forests and dangerous mountain ranges and murky lakes all across the dead world. Hollows of all breeds roam the different biomes, hunting and hiding as they do. 

The only reason Ichigo knows about life (death) outside of the desert is because Getsu took him there. After fighting each and every visord in Las Noches, Getsu left the castle and hadn’t turned back since. That was months ago. Or, it felt like months to Ichigo. 

Time was different for him when he was trapped in his own mind. If he focused really hard, and Getsu wasn’t paying attention, Ichigo could see the outside world in crystal clarity. But usually all he could see were vague impressions of objects and events. He knew that Getsu had come across an adjuchas hollow, that they had conversed and fought, and that the hollow got away. But he had no idea what the beast looked like or what happened during the fight. Ichigo felt his powers being drawn on, could feel teeth biting into his shoulder and calves, yet he could do nothing about it since they weren’t _his_ body parts. He was trapped in a perpetual state of watching and feeling without seeing or knowing anything.

He was beginning to understand why Getsu was a bit off his rocker. 

So many times Ichigo had wanted to take control and do things differently. So many times he wished he could yell at Getsu and make him hear the orders Ichigo had. So many times he realized his ideas would have led to their death. Seeing his weaknesses laid out so plainly like that… it drove him mad.

After climbing his way over yet another mountain, Getsu made camp by a river at its base. There were tiny fish hollows nibbling at imperceivable bits in the water.

Everything in his surroundings was completely different from the sandy plains he knew of. There were trees to hide behind, tunnels to run into, hollow bugs to catch. Ichigo wanted to explore the place and make sure it was safe or at least make sure he could get away. He wanted out.

“I’m tired of being cooped up here. I get it now. You want to be let out and listened to and not shoved in the corner. I get it! So can I get my body back?” huffed Ichigo. 

In an instant, Ichigo was in the world again. There was no meditating or power of will involved, he just Existed.

Taking stock of his body, Ichigo patted himself down and laughed a bit manically when he realized he was corporeal. He could Feel his skin, touch his clothes, smell the air, taste the dirt and juices of the world on his tongue. Oh how he missed having his body. 

He looked in the water to check his face was put together right and was greeted with an odd sight. In the water, looking right back at him, was a face much like his. But there was no way it was actually his. Ichigo’s hair is orange and spiked up all over the place, this guy’s hair was white with patches of orange near his eyes, ears, and neck. When he smiled, Ichigo could see teeth sharper than a normal human’s. And his eyes were... different. The chocolatey brown was being pushed to the center as more gold flooded in. The features were foreign but oh so familiar in a way that sent shivers up his spine.

Reaching out with a tentative hand, Ichigo touched the face of the man in the water. The image rippled and showed his surprise. 

_So that’s me now? Why did I change?_ Ichigo wondered to himself.

Ichigo turned away from the river and nearly shat himself when he saw plain ol’ white Getsu was still there. Corporeal. Just chilling at the camp spot like nothing was changed.

“What the fuck?”

Getsu didn’t look up. Since when did he get to act all ‘cool guy’!? 

Ichigo sputtered, “Y-you’re still here! I’m… I only have one body right?” 

Getsu quirked an eyebrow and nodded, like that was obvious. He gestured to the space next to him as an invitation. Ichigo gladly accepted and sat down.

“Y’know why there’s grass and dirt and trees and shit out here?” Getsu asked in a wistful voice. He seemed calmer than any time in previous interactions with Ichigo. Like he had found the meaning to life while wandering the dead world.

Ichigo scratched his nails in the earth, digging furrows as he literally grounded himself. What the hell did grass have to do with the current situation? Was he made of grass? Is that it? He had lost his mind inside his head and now he was grass???

Pale white hands stroked a blade of grass where it sprouted between the two. His nails were sharp like claws but also dainty. An emotion swelled in Ichigo’s chest thinking about claws and scratches and being soft for just one reason. Then Getsu grabbed the plant and ripped it into the air. Roots shook dark pebbles free and small particles of light seemed to filter down as well.

“It’s taken me awhile to figure it out, but Hollows’re actually just part of an ecosystem.” Getsu scanned Ichigo, shaking the plant to keep attention on it. “There’s us hollows at the top, eating everything that moves, and there’s little hollow critters that eat the plants, and the plants that eat the dirt and water. And then there’s that shiny stuff.”

At the mention of it, Ichigo focused on a floating, sparkling speck. It’s brilliance twinkled like a star in the night sky.

“I've been out here wandering the world tryna find where it comes from but I couldn’t track it down until now. Those fish over there,” Getsu gestured to the river, “eat the lights straight up. I think I got it now. Do you?”

Ichigo inspected the plant more, peered over at the fish, then went back to the plant. He didn’t get it at all. Granted, he was still freaking out over his identity and whether he was real so the ecosystem of Hueco Mundo wasn’t his top priority.

Getsu sighed and mumbled something about his King being a dumbass. “It’s soul stuff.”

At that, Ichigo lost some of his confusion. The mention of souls seemed to make the world feel real, ironically, and he could pay more attention. “Souls do not look like that.”

“Its souls. Menos are basically a bunch of souls all mashed together until they can evolve into an adjuchas with just one soul. The hell do the other souls go? They sure as fuck don’ go to Soul Society and they can’t be in the adjuchas because that’s just one strong soul.”

Ichigo was getting it now. Kinda. Thinking was still difficult but he could grasp the trail Getsu laid down. “The souls are digested and… excreted into the ground? And then used as nutrients for, uh, hollow plants?”

Getsu laughed and it calmed Ichigo. He was less maniacal outside of his head. 

“And here I was thinkin my King couldn’t think!” Ichigo smiled a bit at the jibe, feeling more like brothers than enemies for the moment. “Yeah, the souls are hollow shit. The plants are hollows. Hueco Mundo is a world of soul-shit filled with hollows that eat each other. And the air is also full of soul-shit.”

“Sounds like a lot of crap,” Ichigo joked and wiped his hands of the dirt they had been sunk in.

“It’s a lot of crap. And it's why you and I’re here together. Place’s so full of shit that I can manifest you - or you me - without strainin myself. I can be free of your annoying voice in my head.”

That revelation blew Ichigo back. At last his mind could be calm and not fracture itself because of his existence. And apparently it was something he was always able to do but never knew. “Wait, how’d you figure that out?”

Getsu shrugged. “Guessed. Didn’ know it’d work until I did it. And I knew you could manifest me from when you got yer shikai with the Old Man and Zaraki. Ain’t hard to do.”

Ichigo shook his head, amazed at his hollow. Of course the troublesome spirit was watching his fights and looking for ways to get out. That was probably how he could take control of his body in the first place, by slightly manifesting. It was all coming full circle for him. 

Except for one thing.

“Is this the only reason you were coming out? To play ‘explorer’ in Hueco Mundo and find the meaning of life?” Ichigo prodded the hollow spirit. 

For some reason the old tension between them, the anger and distrust, the bitterness, was all gone. They were separate entities but also the same. Ichigo had watched him exist and learned how hollows think, how his hollow thinks. And Getsu had learned a bit more about how Ichigo thinks. They weren’t enemies anymore, they weren’t even strangers. 

Still, Getsu hesitated to explain himself. He worked his jaw, fiddled with his sword, and avoided Ichigo’s eyes. 

“I. I don’t want to tell ya,” he finally settled on.

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?” Ichigo nearly yelled. 

He didn’t think Getsu could be embarrassed but that was clearly what was happening. Pale skin was flushed an obvious pink.

“You don’t… have a crush, do you?”

Getsu’s eyes went wide and the hollow shot up from his spot. His face was twisted in a snarl and he might have growled when he said “So what if I do?” 

The childish anger his hollow was showing fascinated Ichigo. This was a whole new side to him! Well, kinda. Ichigo already knew Getsu was childish and prone to anger. But this _embarrassed_ Getsu was something else. 

“Holy sh-” Ichigo cut himself off as he jumped to his feet to pursue his hollow. “Who is it? It’s gotta be someone I saw recently- I mean someone I saw around the Blood War, or else you wouldn’t have started coming out right after. Is it a soul reaper? A quincy? One of my human friends? Please don’t tell me it’s one of them.”

Getsu did growl at that and snarkily shot out his only hint: “Hell kinda hollow would I be if I liked any of those weaklings?”

Ichigo counted off his fingers as he ran the numbers on his acquaintances. Every time Getsu stepped away from the ginger, he closed the distance, making sure to keep the hollow within reach and sight. Tormenting Getsu was all new kinds of fun when it was in such a middle school way. If Yuzu was here, she would’ve been having a blast. 

“Okay, so it’s not any of my friends or reaper pals. That leaves… Nel, Kugo, Tsukishima, and _The Soul King_.” Ichigo leveled his gaze at Getsu who was anxiously driving his sword into the ground, tearing patches of grass out and shaking his head. “I hope it’s not Nel because I’m pretty sure she’s gay and Kugo and Tsukishima are definitely together.”

Getsu coughed a laugh. “Idiot. We’re gay too.”

“Uh, wha-”

“AND IT'S None of them. Those are all shrimps compared to my boyf- My guy,” Getsu quickly interrupted. His sword dug deeper and had a glistening of power on it when he jabbed it down again. 

Ichigo’s brain only stalled for a second longer before slamming into overdrive. “I’m WHAT? I’m not gay! I have plenty of girl friends! I haven’t actually kissed any of them and I’ve only had dreams about- oh shit I am gay.”

Ichigo flopped onto the ground. After a moment’s hesitation, Getsu followed suit. The pair stared at the weird spirit grass without speaking or thinking or even breathing.

Heaving a sigh and settling into a more comfortable position on his back, Ichigo muttered,“This is… not how I expected my time here to go. Fighting and yelling at each other, yes; having heart-to-hearts and talking things out, no.”

Getsu snorted and tugged up a final clot of grass. “Didn’t think this would turn into confessional either. But I still ain’t gonna tell you who he is. I… I don’t want to talk about it yet.”

Feeling like this was an important revelation, Ichigo just nodded his head in acceptance.

After living in silence and incapability for months, Ichigo was finally beginning to understand Getsu. This was the point of the exercise, of him leaving home and family, of coming to a world full of danger and death. This, accepting his hollow as a being with more than vicious, terrible desires, was part of the solution. Getsu was part human just as Ichigo was part hollow.

Maybe, if he and Getsu could get to know each other better, they could go home. 

Maybe he didn’t have to fight his hollow. 

Maybe he didn’t have to fight any hollow.

Ichigo closed his eyes and relaxed. Under a blank sky with threats all around and the scent of death clotting his nose, Ichigo felt peace. For the first time since stepping foot in this world, Ichigo could breathe easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a picture of New Ichigo and its on my tumblr (Starkken) so peep that if you want. I was going to put it in this chapter but I'm not that confident in my art skills or my writing skills hahaha.  
> \--  
> Sorry for the long wait for this update. I lost my love for writing and I'm getting it back now. I'll finish this story even if I have to drag it out of me.   
> Also sorry for less romance and more feelies than usual


	10. The Haunted Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grimmjow is settling into life in Karakura. It's different but it's good. Maybe he is also a bit different.

Life at the Kurosaki house has a certain routine. Everyday at nine in the morning Grimmjow woke up, took a cold shower, got dressed in his clothes, and joined Karin and Kon for breakfast. On Saturdays Yuzu made pancakes and eggs until everyone was stuffed.

Grimmjow’s day proceeded with various time-wasting activities. Sometimes he went in the woods and ran his old paths, sometimes he went into town, but usually he sat on the couch watching TV or reading Ichigo’s manga collection. The poor bastard had every volume of Naruto and several other shonen-type books. There was one that had a pink spine with curly letting that was entirely too out of place to be Ichigo’s but it sat on his shelf; Grimmjow was not ready to read whatever that out-of-place book was.

Afternoons were his busy time though. No matter what he was doing, at 3 pm, he went to Karakura High School.

He wasn’t a creep! None of those school kids interested him, he was solely there out of obligation. Although… no one was telling him to go or even asking him to. Whatever. He had a duty to go.

This routine started two weeks after Grimmjow officially became a guest in the Kurosaki house. He was on the roof hiding from Isshin because the doctor wanted to “give him a checkup” and there was no way in hell the arrancar was consenting to that. The usual ruckus of school kids coming home could be heard on the breeze. He didn’t mind the noisy teens, most couldn’t see him and even if they did they would forget about it soon enough. Until he heard a particular phrase.

“Why don’t you come home with us instead.”

It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t a request either. The man’s voice was hard, as if he was talking on the tip of a blade, or perhaps because he had one in his hand. Then the wind shifted and blew a scent into Grimmjow’s nose: Yuzu, scared and tearing up.

He didn’t think, there was no need to. On instinct, the arrancar bunched his muscles, shot into the air, and rode the scent to it’s origin. Maybe it was a remnant of his days with his Fraccion. Grimmjow wasn’t a protective man, he didn’t care for possession, he didn’t mind when someone stole a meal from him, but he would die tearing apart someone who hurt his kin.

“She’s not kin, I’m just not putting up with Ichigo’s shit if he came back to her all banged up,” Grimmjow reasoned to himself, but he knew it was a weak excuse.

The blue haired arrancar landed softly behind a tree. The leaves had fallen off some time ago so he had to be careful on where he stepped; no human ears would hear him anyways. From his hiding spot, he listened to the conversation progress and smelled the hormones shifting.

“I’m perfectly fine taking myself home, thank you though,” Yuzu said through tense lips. It didn’t take a detective to know she was frightened and looking for ways to run away. “Please move so I can go.”

Someone scuffed their shoes on the ground, stepped closer to the teen girl, and said to her in a conspiratorial tone, “There’s some real creeps in this area though. Men who like looking at girls in cute uniforms all by themselves.” There was an intonation of something sinister in his words. 

Grimmjow grit his teeth and bit back a growl that could’ve given him away. “Sick bastards,” he roared in his head. He didn’t know what they looked like but he had already thought of forty-eight ways to make their insides into outsides.

“Please, I need to get home. I’m supposed to cook tonight.”

Three peals of laughter lifted into the air. The first one was the creepy man and the other two most likely his lackeys. A heavy, metal rod hung from a lackey’s hand and rang on the asphalt road, its shiny metallic song making the winter weather feel chillier than before.

“I don’t think you’re understanding me,” the man paused, shifting something in his fingers, “you’re coming back with us. There’s no other way this situation pans out. It’s three on one and you’re a little short on defenses. No one’s going to come to the rescue for you, little girl.”

Grimmjow was ready at that moment. His blood was boiling and there was a hot, sticky feeling in his chest that was making his brain fog up. These weren’t hollows, they didn’t deserve to feel the clean slice of his blade or their skin flaying off from his claws. They were worse than the demons that preyed on the dead and near dead; they were monsters in the truest sense. And he was going to cero them until there was no soul to send to the afterlife. Stepping around the tree, Grimmjow raised his arm to release the ray of destruction in his palm. And stopped.

Yuzu, tears held back through force of will alone, swung her school bag like a batter hitting a fastball in the bottom of the ninth.

The bag crashed into the nearest creep - the leader - and sent his body five meters down the road. He landed on his side with his arm sticking at an unnatural angle. He didn’t have time to scream before Yuzu was slinging her bag again. This time it hit the lackey on the right, forcing him to the ground while clutching his side and yelling curses. She didn’t have to touch the last man before he scurried off down the road.

“I SAID I HAVE TO COOK TONIGHT!” yelled Yuzu. 

Like rats in a sinking ship, the limping, cursing men ran away. “Next time, you won’t be so lucky,” drifted back to the girl from the leader.

Yuzu just held her bag up and shouted, “Next time, I’ll pack more bricks!” Then, as if she hadn’t just beat the shit out of two grown men, the teen placed her bag back on her shoulder and carried on her way. Were it not for her shaking breaths and slightly staggered steps, she would’ve seemed the same as always.

Grimmjow slunk out of view once again. “If this is what all Kurosaki’s are like, it’s no wonder Ichigo kicked the Soul King’s ass. They’re fierce as fuck.” Humbled, the arrancar found his way back to the house and checked to make sure Yuzu hadn’t gotten home yet.

It wasn’t like he was worried about the girl. That would imply he had fondness for her, a protective attitude, and that wasn’t the case. No, he simply wanted to make sure she wasn’t going to split apart and become a hollow before she died. Because that could totally happen, right? Stress and fear, or something like that…

When the girl rounded the corner to the house, Grimmjow tried to act as nonchalant as possible. He looked away from her until she was within a meter of him.

“Hey.”

“Hi Mr. Arrancar,” Yuzu said in her normal cheerful tone. 

It wasn’t his preferred name but whatever, he would let it slide this time. “Where’ve you been?” he asked as casually as possible when they were at the same spot.

Yuzu stopped to look at Grimmjow, assessing him, trying to see how much he knew. Either she didn’t find anything or she decided not to ask about it. “I got lost while coming back from school. Don’t worry though, I’ll be on time tomorrow.”

Taking the hint, Grimmjow backed off the topic. But he still needed to reassure that she was fine, for reasons he didn’t want to acknowledge. “It’s, uh, curry night, right?”

They were both at the door, neither moving forward. Yuzu had her hand on the knob. She squeezed it. “Yeah, it is.” 

“Can I help?”

Grimmjow smelled the tears drop from her eyes. That was his only warning before the girl turned and buried her face in his chest, clutching him in a hug so small and tight he didn’t know what to do. Uneasily, he laid his hand on her back and her head. 

None of his Fraccion had sought comfort from him like this. He wasn’t a good guy. He wasn’t a role model or a perfect man. He couldn’t be trusted to keep his claws dull and his mouth shut. Yet, he stood still, solid as a statue, waiting until his enemy’s/friend’s/lover’s sister had dried her face in his jacket. No he was not a good man at all, but he knew when to act like one for the sake of someone else.

That night, when he was mincing onions next to the girl, Grimmjow decided on what to do while Ichigo and Getsu were gone. Every slice with the kitchen knife was another layer of promise he made to himself. His precision in cutting the chicken, his care while getting a specific measure of water, and his satisfied smirk when the lid went over the pot sealing everything to cook until tender. All of that was a mark on his soul more permanent than his mask.

“I’ll protect this family. For as long as I need to, I’ll make sure none of them - especially Yuzu - sheds another tear,” Grimmjow swore to himself.

On his life as an arrancar, Grimmjow vowed to make himself a bit more like a soul reaper. And he didn’t doubt it being the right choice.


	11. The Altered Person

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for this being so late updated. I was having trouble fitting the story to what I wanted and I realized the summary was making that difficult. I changed the story summary and WOW I could suddenly write for this again. Amazing. Also I've become active in the grimmichi server once again and that kicked me into grimmichi thirsting time which made me want to write this again. Praise the server.  
> I think I have a much clearer vision of where this is heading now. I won't promise certain days to update but I promise I'll finish this. And I always keep my promises.  
> Enjoy :)

Everything was weird now. Off-kilter. Out of sync. Different from normal.

Ichigo could use a thousand and one synonyms but none of it would truly describe the mental disconnect he was experiencing. One day he was a confident human with a loving family and annoying friends, the next he was alone in a dead world with his enemy turned rival turned friend. When had it changed?

Months had passed as the two traveled in valleys and over oceans. They found a desert and it seemed to be the right direction so they began traveling through it. That was a week ago and now they were surrounded on all sides by sand dunes and rock outcrops.

They chatted occasionally, sparred often, and longed for home all the time. Though, Ichigo supposed, they had different ideas of home. Did Getsu even know his family? Would they be able to stay like this, separated, even after they returned to Karakura?

Ichigo didn’t know, and that worried him.

For him, home meant a warm meal at the end of the day. It meant laughter and yelling over the TV to ask for a cup of water. It meant safety and love. His life had been turned upside down and sideways several times during his life but he could always come back to the same sounds and smells even if the people and scenery changed. Was that what Getsu imagined though?

“Hey King, d’you think we can both be happy in the living world?” asked Getsu after a particularly intense fight. 

Ichigo was laying on his back, trying to catch his breath still. “Maybe.” It was a guess, good as any. “What would make you happy?”

Silence fell between the two. It wasn’t oppressive or dangerous, just silence. They were comfortable with that, used to it for them. Even after sharing a headspace for several years they still hadn’t been much for sharing thoughts. So Ichigo was content to wait for a response while he calmed his racing heart and anxious mind.

“Me? Happy?" Getsu chuckled a bit, like it was a joke he had heard too many times, "King, hollows don't get to be happy. We constantly long for it, hoping that we can achieve happiness, but it's not something we can feel like you."

"Don't you feel happy with your, uh, boyfriend?"

Getsu sat up, digesting the question. "... I do."

Ichigo felt a twinge of something inside himself. It was rotten and painful, like a fruit that was overripe and still on the vine. He didn't like that feeling.

"So then this guy is your happiness?" Ichigo said. 

"He's not- I mean, he ain't the miraculous savior of me! We're going steady but it's not long term yet. I don't know if he likes me that much anyways since I'm the one who's kissed him," he grumbled. It was a bit cute if not for how it made Ichigo’s stomach clench. "I miss him, but I know it's more important to make you feel alright. You're my other part, my king, I gotta put you first."

For what seemed like the first time ever, Ichigo looked at Getsu and saw something good. It wasn't his decision when Getsu pulled him into a hug. It was odd, feeling the hollow’s body against his own, but it also fit so nicely. They knew exactly how to place their arms so it wasn't uncomfortable and their swords didn't get in the way. Why had they never hugged before?

"Thank you, Getsu. The point of coming here was to figure out how to balance ourselves though, and I think that means not putting me first all the time." 

"Yeah, thats fair," Getsu said as he rested his chin over Ichigo’s shoulder. Since they were the same height it felt natural to do that. Moreover, it felt necessary. "So, what is your happiness?"

"My happiness? I don’t-"

Ichigo went silent. The air around them had shifted almost imperceptibly more hostile. There was a predator nearby, and it was hunting. 

After a few seconds of holding their breath, they felt it. Reiatsu. A hollow, on the edge of becoming an arrancar it seemed. Whatever hollow it came across next would be its last meal before evolution.

Ichigo tried to break out of Getsu’s embrace but strong arms kept him trapped. He shoved his hands against a surprisingly solid chest but it was no use. "Getsu. Let me go. We gotta kill this thing before it gets to us."

The arms tightened a fraction.

"Seriously? Are you wanting us to die? That thing is obviously looking for food and we're too close for it not to sense me. Let me go now." Ichigo’s breathing was coming quicker. He didn't like being trapped, no he didn't like it at all. The last time he was trapped he had almost died at the hands of a multi-eyed maniac. And now he was literally sensing a threat get closer to him and he couldn't do anything about it.

"Quit squirming around," Getsu snapped. He pulled Ichigo even closer and took a deep breath. "Your reiryoku is out of control and I'm trying to rein it in. Chill and let me do this for us."

Ichigo stopped his movements. He hadn't realized Getsu could manipulate his spiritual pressure like that. It made sense though, seeing as how he was oh so knowledgeable about soul stuff since his explorations. Ichigo forced his arms to still and let himself be contained.

His heart beat an erratic rhythm behind his ribs. This was it. His first encounter with a hollow - other than Getsu - in months. Even in Hueco Mundo there weren’t many beasts to encounter. Maybe Getsu had fought off all of the dangerous ones when he was first set loose. Or maybe they had been staying away from the more powerful hollows and only now was one willing to challenge them.

Sand shook around the pair as the large form of the dead beast made its way closer and closer. One of them was shaking. Ichigo couldn't figure out why Getsu would be scared in a moment like this, it was so unlike him. Then he realized the truth: he was the scared one. He was terrified, actually. Hundreds of battles and literally killing a god and he was scared of a low level hollow. It was pathetic, useless, utterly unbecoming of him. How was he supposed to live a normal life when something like this put him so on edge?

The hollow stopped. It was on the other side of a nearby rock and was at the end of a sand dune. It could be as large as an Alaskan bull worm or as small as Rukia and Ichigo wouldn't know because it's spiritual pressure was massive. Not Kenpachi large, but maybe Renji-ish. More than Ichigo has felt since the war ended.

With a wild cry of hunger, the hollow charged over the sand and halted in front of Ichigo and Getsu. It had a long snout with sharp teeth poking up from the bottom, eyes sat atop its head, angled for ambush more than chase, and a fat body followed after it with a tail twice as long. The bone plate armor on it looked like scales and there was a sinuous texture in the gaps. Were it not for the uncharacteristically intelligent way it sized them up and shifted its weight from foot to foot, Ichigo would have thought it was a normal white crocodile. 

Getsu’s grip faltered after seeing it. That was all Ichigo needed to break free and begin his attack. He was _not_ going to be taken down by an overgrown lizard. Especially since he had kicked the ass of all its predecessors.

Ichigo unslung the large black sword from his back and prepared a war cry to match the hollow’s. 

Then he felt a pain in his chest. It was hot and throbbing. He couldn’t get out anything except a wheeze. Gritting his teeth, he looked down and saw the tip of a black sword poking out of his chest.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” he mumbled. 

The sword was yanked and instead of coming free from his body, Ichigo seemed to be drawn into the blade. “It’s alright, King. You don’t gotta fight this one. Just watch me do it,” Getsu said almost soothingly. Since when had he become the calm rational one?

Ichigo grit his teeth and allowed his consciousness to shift inward. The pain his body previously experienced but forgotten and he drew in a deep breath. His vision changed to looking at the scene through the window of a skyscraper. Light from an unknown source reflected off the glass in areas and Ichigo had to squint to see the full view. This was so much more annoying than getting stabbed. 

A stiff breeze blew Getsu’s hair over his eyes when he pulled his zanpakuto into the high velocity rotation he favored. The sand between the two hollows swept up into a small tornado, zipping off to the right. The crocodile beast worked its jaw and stared down its opponent. 

“You think you can stand up to me?” said the hollow in a surprisingly feminine voice. It was clearly meant to be a derisive comment about Getsu’s smaller size.

Getsu was unfazed. He had fought enough bullies to shrug off such a weak comment. “I ain’t here to die,” he said smoothly, “I’m here to keep my king outta trouble, an’ you look like a whole load of problems.”

That set the hollow off. Her tail wacked against the sand once before her body lurched forward. Her oversized mouth snapped shut on where Getsu was, but found only air. She yelled and looked around but it was futile. Getsu stood atop her head between her eyes, still swinging his blade around by its ribbon as if it were a yo-yo. When she realized what was happening, she tried to roll and shake off the pesky hollow. That suited him just fine. He let his blade fly and jumped off the body, watching the ribbon wind around the hollow’s snout and bind it shut.

Ichigo was impressed. His normal strategy was to slice and dice but with the hollow’s armored body it would have been difficult. Incapacitation was the much better option. Though it did make him wonder how Getsu would use his blade since it was the tether keeping the croc bound.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, King,” Getsu said out loud, “I might love my own sword but I know how to work the old man’s too.” He winked and even though Ichigo couldn’t see it he knew it happened. 

“Fruity bastard, you can’t keep the jokes aside even while fighting?” retorted Ichigo.

“How could I resist? Fightin’ is best done with humor.” Ichigo rolled his eyes and Getsu cackled at that. How was he able to know Ichigo’s expressions when they were in different planes of consciousness? “I’ve been in your head long enough to know you; why d’you think I’m such an ass?”

The croc hollow squirmed, unsure of what to make of the man talking to himself when he had just disabled her main attack. It was odd, at the least. Lucky for her, she had another attack. 

Green light prickled between her left-hand claws. It grew in intensity until she couldn’t contain it anymore. She aimed as best she could but knew it would be off. The attack lanced through the air just in front of Getsu.

“What the-” was all Getsu could say before he realized the true intent of the attack. 

Ichigo yelled a command and Getsu followed it without hesitation. His smaller zanpakuto stabbed into the gums of the croc hollow just as a mouth closed around his arm. The bottom teeth tore through his muscles and it hurt something fierce but it wasn’t deep enough to take the arm off. 

The hollows stared each other down. The croc moved her jaw up and down, chewing on the flesh she could. Getsu held his pose, not willing to drop the sword even though it was difficult to hold. Ichigo could feel a dull throb in his own arm, he wasn’t in bodily danger. 

“Was that a cero?” Getsu asked. He was biting back screams of rage, but it was more important to know than to yell uselessly. The croc grunted an affirmative. Getsu seemed to consider something. His fingers twitched. Ichigo had a sinking feeling in his gut, like he knew what was about to happen, and he didn’t like it. “You probably only need one more hollow’s energy... I’ll let you have mine if you agree to come with me.”

Ichigo screamed. “Don’t you fucking dare! Don’t do it you idiot, selfish, prick! You’re not a hero, you don’t have to help her! You don’t- you don’t have to help her…” his voice wavered and went soft. He could yell it from the tallest tower in his mind, slash the steel of every building so it spelled ‘NO’, and it would be pointless. He wasn’t the one having to decide, and he had been locked away with minimal input.

“Deal,” the beast rumbled.

Getsu let go of the only thing keeping the hollow’s mouth open. He didn’t say a word as the pain rushed over him. It was quick, fluid, and emotionless. 

The croc swallowed the flesh and went silent. Her body locked up, all the muscles going taunt and her scales pulling closer to the flesh. 

“That was your goddamn arm not a consolation prize!” Ichigo slammed his hands against the window, trying to break into the physical plane again. The ache in his flesh had turned into a blazing grinding pain. Tears rolled down his cheeks and splashed on the glass in front of him. “Why are you so selfish? I could’ve helped you. There was another way to do this.”

“I chose to do this. You’ll get it eventually, you dense idiot,” Getsu chuckled. The sand around Getsu was growing red. Each drop added a darker color, and the soft particles of earth greedily drank it in. He stepped away, wobbling dangerously, until there was a good bit of distance between him and the other hollow. “Hey, if I pass out, make sure we both get back to Hal.”

Ichigo yelled harder. He knew what that meant. His dumb, stupid, selfish, uncaring hollow was telling him to help his enemy. He had done it before. He would do it again.

Getsu fell down and closed his eyes. The barrier between Ichigo and the real world faded away. He stood over his lookalike. Well, not so alike. Only one of them had two arms. Ichigo checked his right arm, making sure it was still there, and saw a red line had wrapped around it where Getsu’s was torn. So, he hadn’t been unaffected. Ichigo wrapped the hollow’s shihakusho around his wound and hoped it wouldn’t get stained or he would never hear the end of it.

A deep cracking sound drew Ichigo’s attention to the larger hollow on the dune. Her scales shone with an unnatural brightness, it was like the sun itself was leaking out of her flesh. Ichigo held his hand in front of him, which was a great idea when a blast of spiritual pressure blew sand in every direction. 

When everything settled down and Ichigo could see without having spots in his eyes, there was a new person before him. He walked closer to her, curiosity getting the better of his nerves. Besides, she had less than half the reiatsu of before.

Her hair was a dark brown with a green tint to it, eyes pure black, and skin browner than dirt. Her bone mask fragment was like a headband engraved with scales all the way to the crown of her head where it broke into spikes. As Ichigo drew closer, she stood up from her awkward pose and stretched. She was about a head taller than him and twice as wide, and naked as a baby. 

“First time standing on two legs?” Ichigo asked, trying to sound friendly. It didn’t really work as the new arrancar jumped away from him - though she quickly fell on her butt. He rushed to help her up and this time she was okay with it. “Sorry about that, I’m not used to greeting new arrancar. You’re the first I’ve met actually. Well, not the first arrancar ever, I’ve got a long history of knowing arrancar, but the first new one.” he smiled desperately.

“Uh. okay?” she replied uncertainly. Once she was standing again, Ichigo gave her his shitagi even though it didn’t quite fit her. After that she simply curled and uncurled her fingers. It was only then that Ichigo noticed a staccato green line wrapped around her right arm, just like his new skin detail.

Ichigo wasn’t quite sure what to do in the situation. How did one react when part of one’s soul sacrificed an arm to bring a human-like creature to full consciousness? One probably did as the part of the soul asked and brought the creature to others of its kind.

“If you can move, I’d like to get going somewhere we’ll be safe. There’s a compound a bit away that has other arrancar who can help you.” he said. He really hoped she would agree but he could always knock her out and drag her there if needed.

The woman cocked her head at him, focusing her eyes on his features, and nodded. “We had a deal, and Fethawit does not back out of deals. I took your arm so now I’ll- Wait. Why is your arm still there?”

A hand with very sharp nails snatched Ichigo’s appendage. Fethawit twisted and turned it, inspecting every inch until her eyes landed on the estigma matching her own. Then she glared at him. 

“I don’t know what the deal is with that. I’m not used to hollow things yet…” Ichigo mumbled. He really should have asked Getsu about hollows more during their trekking but the topic had never come up.

“How can a hollow of your strength not know anything yet? You said you’d take me to a compound, does that mean it’s yours?” 

“I’m not a hollow! I’m a human, sorta. More like a shinigami in this form but this isn’t my normal.” Ichigo tugged his arm free of the woman’s grip. Trudging through the sand to Getsu’s body, Ichigo pointed to it and said, “If you want to know who the hollow here is, then look at this guy! I didn’t make your deal but I will honor it for him because I promised to. I always keep my promises.”

Fethawit made her way to the passed out Getsu and did a double take. She looked from him to Ichigo and back again. It would’ve been funny if it weren’t so drawn out. She finally settled on Ichigo and shrugged. “But you both have… Oh whatever, I’m done being confused.” And with that pronouncement she was ready to go.

Ichigo didn’t understand what she could have been referring to but he was also “done being confused” so he didn’t ask. In a practiced motion, he scooped his hollow into his arms and held the wounded arm close. It had stopped bleeding and sand clung to the wet patches of cloth. Ichigo tried not to focus on that.

Ichigo took a deep breath in and reached out with his reiatsu. It only took a moment for him to find what he wanted since it was not far away (Getsu and him would have reached it in less than a week). There wasn’t anywhere else that arrancar reiatsu was so densely packed. He did feel a bit sad when he couldn’t find a particular arrancar’s presence, but he quickly shook that thought off. It didn’t matter if he was there. In fact, it was probably better that he wasn’t. Ichigo didn’t feel like fighting and that was all that would come from their interacting.

With that settled, the human and arrancar set off together. 

They arrived at Las Noches in less time than Ichigo predicted. That was partially because after an hour Fethawit had figured out how to use sonido and they had basically raced the rest of the way there. Ichigo had to control his laughter when he watched - in slow motion - as Fethawit slammed into the white wall of the compound. She got up and shook herself off like nothing had happened and that was what truly did Ichigo in. The big buff arrancar laid low by a rock, and unwilling to show it. She sullenly followed him around the corner to the entrance after that.

Waiting for them at the open doors was Hallibel. She averted her eyes politely and offered plain white robes to Fethawit. Of course she had known they were coming.

“I see you’ve managed to cut yourself again,” the queen of Las Noches sighed. She looked pointedly at Getsu.

Ichigo shrugged. “It wasn’t my idea. Can you help him or will he be like this until I return home? I know arm loss isn’t a permanent thing around here.”

Hallibel quirked an eyebrow. “It was only because of Orihime that Grimmjow regained his arm. Until then, he will have to suffer the consequences of his actions.” 

Ichigo thanked her then walked away. He didn’t know Hallibel that well and didn’t feel like sharing his experiences with her. Honestly, he was tired and wanted nothing more than to set down Getsu, take a bath, and sleep in a soft bed. 

Nobody followed him to his guest room so he figured Fethawit was sorted out. It was better that Hallibel was in charge and not Ichigo, he wouldn’t know what to do with new people asking to join his kingdom. He hadn’t known how to be the leader of his rag-tag team when they stormed into the dead world and that was people who wanted to follow him. Yeah, it was better the shark arrancar was the ruler.

The door opened easily and Ichigo stepped into the cat room once again. Lights automatically came on as he wandered down the hallway and into the washoom. It was so nice to be back in man-made structures.

Ichigo gently prodded Getsu’s face. It was ignored the first time, then an eye twitched, and finally Getsu growled and tried to grab the offending finger. That didn’t work since his hand was, uh, not able to grab anything on account of it being eaten. Ichigo stopped his annoying poking.

“Hey there sleepyhead,” he said, entirely too chipper, “You wanna bathe yourself or are you going to make me wash you?”

Getsu’s golden eyes focused on Ichigo. They winced as he regained full consciousness and the pain flooded back. “Shut up. I need that orange haired girl to give my arm back before I do anything.”

“No can do, she’s in Karakura and we’re in Las Noches. You gotta suck it up and figure this out on your own.”

“... Fuck.”

Ichigo laughed deeply, starting with a chuckle and turning into a wheeze and ending in a sob. There was only so much funny he could have before his dark feelings escaped. His emotions for Getsu had all been neatly bottled up and he hadn’t allowed himself to feel panic for the reckless hollow. But now, when they were both safe, in the privacy of their company, he could let it out. So he kept sobbing and laughing, pulling his hollow closer and closer to himself.

“You are such an arrogant, selfish, dick. I could’ve lost you. Did you think about that? What would I have done if you died? I- I don’t want to think about losing another person close to me ever again” Ichigo said, trying to wipe his tears away. 

Getsu didn’t say anything to that. What could he say? Death wasn’t something hollows feared, not naturally anyways, since they were already dead. No one cared about hollows outside of their chosen pack, no one mourned their loss, no one stopped a soul reaper from swinging their blade. The golden eyed man had no comforting words to offer. 

“That hollow turned into an arrancar,” Ichigo said after his tears stopped and his body wasn’t shaking, “She came back with me and Hallibel is getting her settled. She thought I was you, and I thought she would attack me when she saw your body. But we’re doing good now. She might hate me because she ran into a wall though.”

Getsu laughed, only cringing slightly when the action pulled the wrong muscles in his chest. He reached his good arm up and settled it on Ichigo’s head. It was a light touch, nothing like their past touches when they were enemies and everything was about domination. “Thank you, King. I wasn’t selfish though. I knew she was boutta evolve and that she’d be safe with you. Hollows… we gotta look out for each other now. There ain’t enough of us higher levels left to keep fighting.” His hand slipped down and touched below Ichigo’s eye, dragging a finger down to his chin and under his jaw.

Ichigo shivered. It was intimate and soft. Their touches were supposed to be full of angst and anger, but they had nothing left to give to that. It was easier to be okay with each other. They didn’t have a reason to fight anymore.When had they become so dependent on each other? Ichigo would have never been comfortable with this before coming to Hueco Mundo, but now he couldn’t picture it being any other way. Silence reigned in the tiled washroom. Neither wanted to move, they were content to just breath and reassure they were both alive and well. 

Getsu broke the atmosphere by shifting in Ichigo’s arms. The human let him stand up and kept an arm around his waist to stead him. “Okay, let’s wash off this gunk. I don’t think we’ve showered since we left the woods.” 

It was a simple affair, with no sexual undertones as they were too tired and familiar with each other’s nakedness to think otherwise. They took turns in the bath. Ichigo helped Getsu wash his hair but they were mostly independent. They shared the towel, not bothering to complain about it being damp already. Their clothes were somehow clean when they put them back on. It was one thing to bathe together, it was another thing to sleep naked in the same bed together - and they had agreed to share the bed since it was too comfortable to pass up.

Getsu left the bathroom while Ichigo finished drying his hair. Satisfied with the dryness, Ichigo let the towel fall around his shoulders and finally looked in the mirror. He stifled a yell.

It was worse than his reflection in the river. Not worse, different. More unhuman than before.

Brown irises surrounded by a strong gold ring. Orange hair growing on top with white underneath, almost hidden because of his long locks. A red stripe fell from his waterline, down his face and neck, ending at the top of his chest where Ulquiorra had blasted a hole into him (though that was thankfully not present). Ichigo turned his head from side to side, hoping the image wasn’t his, but was disappointed. 

“We reached a balance. He becomes more human, and I become more hollow,” Ichigo whispered to himself. The weight of the words settled into him. He was changing, more than he thought he was, more than he had during three years of fighting wars for other people. Finally, he was changing for his own good.

Ichigo smiled and left the bathroom. He settled into the soft bed and pulled the cat-paw patterned blanket over himself, not caring when Getsu grumbled at the shift in weight. 

He rolled onto his side and faced his hollow. “I’m glad I agreed to come here. I thought I was going to stay the same forever after Yhwach. It terrified me, a bit. I get why you wanted to change things, wanted to go away, wanted something new,” Ichigo confessed. He was giddy, like a school kid at a sleepover, and it felt right to admit his thoughts.

Getsu didn’t respond and Ichigo figured he had gone to sleep. Oh well, it didn’t matter if the hollow was awake or not. Those words were for Ichigo to hear out loud in the presence of the other regardless of awareness. 

Ichigo settled himself on a different thought to fall asleep to. It was about change, enemies turned friends, the realization of several things at once. 

He thought about why it mattered that he was becoming more like a hollow. 

He thought about fighting. 

He thought about happiness. 

He thought about blue haired men and what it would feel like to touch scarred skin.


End file.
